3w8L
by LunaSeasMoonChild
Summary: How many three-word, eight-letter combinations are there? "I love you" isn't the only 3w8L that highlights Chuck and Blair's relationship. A sentence list that consists of sets of 3w8L pertaining to Chair. Current 3w8L: Go and die
1. I dare you

_**Author's notes:**_ Btw, I'll be working on this fic in tandem with my other one-shot CB collection, "Chuck Fumes and Blair Flares". So updates of this and that fic of mine will be simultaneous (at least, I hope so, coz I've made more progress with this one).

I dedicate this one-shot collection to _**projectinglovee**_. ^_^ Love your fics and more power to you. This plot bunny popped out behind the bushes, munching a carrot while I was reading one of your fics (guess which one XD).

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: I dare you**_

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"Spin the bottle? How tacky." The Waldorf soiree was a dignified affair for the fifth graders of the Upper East Side, not some common sleepover in Brooklyn.

"Come on, B," Serena urged her best friend who was frowning, Blair's arms crossed to show her stand against the suggested game.

Chuck just rolled his eyes. "It's no use, Serena. Let's not waste the whole night trying to convince her. The next day will come, and Blair still wouldn't be moved a bit. Just leave it."

"What are you saying, Bass?" Blair scowled at him. "That I'm scared?"

He just smirked, meeting her angry gaze head on. "I know you won't do it."

Blair gritted her teeth. She stood and stomped out of the room.

"Chuck!" Serena turned to him. "Now look what you did! You got her mad!" Serena was about to rise and go after her best friend to calm her down, but Nate, who was sitting on her other side, held on to her wrist.

"Let her cool off for a while." Nate tugged at the blonde's hand, convincing her to return to her sitting position. "Blair doesn't need to play if she doesn't want to."

Nate then turned to address all their classmates, taking charge now that Blair bailed on them. "Now, all we need is-"

Blair's stomps resounded as she entered the living room, and her return drew everyone's attention on her. She walked towards them and placed a bottle in the middle of the circle of their peers. After laying the bottle on its side, she then took her place beside Serena.

"So... how does it go?" Blair dared to ask, her embarrassment at her cluelessness showing in the reddening of her cheeks.

"Well," Serena shifted a bit, changing her Indian style of sitting to tucking her legs under her, Japanese style. "Someone spins the bottle, and that person must kiss the one the bottle points to, whether it's a boy or a girl." She finished with a giggle of excitement.

With a roll of Blair's eyes, she crossed her arms in annoyance. "That's it? How boring."

"Then you wouldn't mind playing it, would you? Coz I really wanna try this." Nate interjected.

"Yeah, B. Give it a try. Pretty please with a headband on top?"

How could Blair refuse when Nate and Serena were asking her to? Their other classmates also spoke up, urging her to join.

Blair sighed and conceded. "Fine."

"Yes!" Serena pumped her hand in the air, a celebration of victory. "So, who's gonna start?"

No one raised their hand or offered to go first to propel the commencement of the game.

"I volunteer our wonderful hostess," Chuck then spoke up. Blair glared at him.

"And why should I?"

"Because, Waldorf," He once again smirked, as if he was certain of the outcome. "I dare you."

"Wait, wait," Serena interrupted. "What if someone backs out?"

"Mmm... well..." Nate frowned as he thought hard while Chuck looked around for inspiration.

"How about we draw on that person's face with a pentel pen?" The mischief showed in Chuck's expression of glee, perhaps proud of the punishing alternative that he came up with.

"But the ink could stay on for days!" A boy protested.

"Exactly." Chuck was certain no one would suffer through having pentel pen marks on their faces for a couple of days, hence ensuring that most, if not all, will participate no matter what. "If the one who spins refuses, the person who was supposed to be kissed will draw on the spinner's face and if the person whom the bottle points to refuses, the spinner will be the one to draw on the face." Chuck clarified further the consequence of backing out.

Serena nodded. "That's a good one. So, does everyone agree to what Chuck suggested?"

No one spoke against it, only nodded to show their consent.

Nate clapped his hands twice to get everyone's attention. "Alright then. Let's start."

Serena nudged Blair, urging her to the middle. Blair crawled up to the bottle and gave it a strong spin. She pulled back to settle next to Serena and along with everyone else, watched the bottle go on and on.

The bottle made several revolutions, and everyone waited with bated breaths for the rotation's speed to decrease, awaiting the hand of destiny to halt it and point to the intended. It seemed to go agonizingly slow, and when it finally did come to a complete stop, Blair followed the invisible trail to the person she was to kiss.

"Well, well. What do we have here, Waldorf?"

"Shut up, Chuck." Blair shot back with a frustrated sigh. Of the ten boys and twelve girls in this soiree, why did it have to land on Chuck darn Bass?

"You don't happen to have a pentel pen around here, do you?"

Blair's jaw dropped in indignation. "You think I won't do it!"

"Like I said," Chuck, sitting cross-legged next to Nate, shrugged his shoulders and leaned back, his arms propping him. "I know you won't. But..." He smirked evilly. "Go on, I dare you."

Preparing herself with a deep breath, Blair stood up and sat in front of Chuck, who had now straightened his back. Blair was taking deep breaths in an effort to stave off the nervousness that was making her hands shake and her heart beat too fast. Unknowingly, she had screwed her eyes shut tightly. Inch by inch, Blair was closing the gap between their faces when-

"Are you sure?"

The interruption caused her to open her eyes. Blair was surprised to see the smarmy expression on his face was now absent.

"I'll let you draw on my face too if you want out so you won't be the only one with pentel pen drawings on the face."

She didn't expect consideration on Chuck's part, and to see his eyes intensely staring at her in uncertainty, to know that he cared enough for her comfort and consent, eased her apprehension. Her chest felt surprisingly buoyant with her newfound tranquility, but it did nothing to stop the evident palpitation of her heart and the wispy churning (but not so unpleasant) in her stomach.

Blair did not need to confirm her consent; her eyes indicated the message to him. He straightened and as she leaned her head towards him, so did he.

However, they did not delve into the kiss when their foreheads touched and their lips a mere inch from one another. A caesura, a momentary pause in a space where their breaths tangled, they closed their eyes and shyly touched lips.

It lasted a second too long, and when they parted, both were sporting blushes.

Everyone was silent, until a catcall from Nate and a whoop from Serena encouraged the others to applaud and cheer them. Both ignored it, and Blair silently returned to her post next to Serena.

It was their first kiss.

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_**A/n:**___I noticed that the markers I use to break chap titles or scenes don't work anymore. I looked back on my other fics and for some reason, they've disappeared to be replaced by effing single line breaks! I happen to put serious consideration in the aesthetic design and look of my chappies and fics so it pissed me off. When I check on documanager, the same thing happens even if I edit it. After I save, the decorative line breaks are gone to be replaced by bleak, grey, single line breaks (ugh)!

**Can anyone tell me what the EFF is going on?! Or how I can get past it? Coz I'm not sure if it's a defect in my PC or 's just done something.**


	2. I hate you

_**Author's notes:**_ I read a fic before mentioning Blair knowing that Chuck planned her and Nathaniel's date. I was intrigued, so I wrote this piece. I think the fic was one of **kaela07**'s works, but I'm not sure. If you want me to acknowledge you, I'd be happy to. Just leave me a review or PM and I will post your name and fic on this chappie. Or if anyone knows which fic it is from, don't hesitate to inform me. ^_^

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: I hate you**_

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She was downright furious. She was now on a mission to hunt down a certain Bass who was going to be gutted alive and have his entrails devoured by cats.

What did he do to deserve her ire? Well, he committed a most grievous act against her. What she believed was the perfect date, her dream date, was a ruse. And after being on cloud nine for the whole evening with that idea in her mind, it all had to come crashing down with a certain slip of the tongue.

_"Oh, don't thank me; thank Chuck," Nate said as she thanked him for the most wonderful date. She could almost hear the sound of her balloon of euphoria deflate with a sickening fart-like sound. She hoped the smile she had donned on didn't waiver. Apparently, it didn't as Nate just continued on speaking. "Chuck really does know how to plan a date. Although I'm surprised, because I __**know**__ he's never taken a girl out before..."_

_By this time, Blair had blocked his voice out as she imagined ways of torturing a certain Bass. Nate continued on talking throughout the elevator ride to the Waldorf penthouse, apparently pleased with the success of Chuck's plan for tonight, unaware of the slightly dark glitch in Blair's smile as she endeavored to keep from scowling or snapping a nasty comment._

_"... I'm glad you had a great time. I'll see you tomorrow at school." Nate kissed her cheek before getting back on the elevator to take it down._

And the worst part was that Nate called Chuck first after the date to thank him for a job well done. She, Blair, the date, the new girlfriend, was supposed to be the first call after they parted ways. It would've been romantic if her phone rang just as soon as the elevator doors closed, which meant he couldn't stop thinking about her.

If only Blair knew that Chuck berated his best friend for calling him first before Blair, and that Nate wouldn't have thought of calling her that night if Chuck hadn't instructed him to.

"Basshole!" She hissed out, a frown accentuating her features, her walk dangerous and charged, path focused like a bull had seen red. Chuck could almost hear the echo of her stomps like the thud of his heartbeat on his chest as she neared him.

"Waldorf," he greeted with a drawl as he smirked.

"I hate you!"

He blinked, taken aback by her statement for a second. He then composed himself and his smirk appeared once again. "What could I have possibly done to cause you displeasure so early this morning?"

She dug her nails in his forearm, and his smug grin twitched in pain. "Talk. Somewhere. Now." She said through gritted teeth, pulling him along with her.

"You shouldn't be handling me so roughly if you need me to scheme with you. All you have to do is ask nicely." Chuck commented as soon as they reached a private corner. Blair ignored him and shoved him in front of her. The Inquisition has commenced.

She sighed in an effort to control her annoyance that bothered her like a pricking thorn at her side. "For your information, this is not about requesting a scheming collaboration. We'll get to that later on during lunch," Blair cleared her throat and steeled her tone again. "This is about my and Nate's first date as a couple."

So she knew. Nate must've mentioned it by accident. He should've known; he forgot to inform his blonde best friend to keep his involvement a secret.

Chuck just smirked in smug delight, pleased at his effort being recognized. "What? It wasn't to your standards? Because I'm pretty sure I got all the details down to make it the way you wanted, the way you _envisioned _your first date to be."

A glare was his only reply, but a smirk was starting to make its way to the surface of her lips. "Though I must commend you for a lovely evening, you apparently do not get all ten stars, Bass. There was one particular detail you missed that may as well make the date a no-star!"

Chuck's expression changed in a flash, from triumphant to confused. He frowned as he went through all the details in his head, the checklist he had unknowingly memorized as he meticulously planned the event. "I _know_ I got it right in everything accordingly. You're bluffing." He crossed his arms.

Blair shook her head, hands on her hips. "I will admit, it was planned to perfection. But, alas," Blair sighed for dramatic effect, "the perfection of the moment had one tiny, minor error."

He groaned as he slapped his forehead. "It's the phone call. Nathaniel was so eager to tell me how delighted you were, he was so excited to tell me how everything went that he almost didn't call you! I had to remind him to hang up and get you on the phone! The timing was so off!" Chuck stomped a foot as he rested both hands on his hips. "Dammit!" He hissed under his breath.

Blair could only roll her eyes. "Well, that's also one, but not the main point!"

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Care to divulge that one particular flaw in my planning?"

Blair sighed again. "The fact that Nate didn't plan any of it ruined the illusion of the perfect date."

Chuck frowned once again, not understanding Blair's point. "I'm afraid you'll have to clarify, Waldorf. You're not making sense."

With arms crossed in front of her chest, Blair's shoulders drooped a bit. "I'm saying, if Nate had been the one to put the effort in planning the date instead of just going along with what you'd come up with, it would've been better."

Chuck laughed out loud, causing Blair to frown and stomp her foot. "What?!"

"So you're saying, you'd prefer that Nate had been the one to plan your first date?"

"Yes. It would've made the evening perfect regardless."

Chuck guffawed again. "So if Nathaniel planned to just watch the football game for that night with you over a bowl of popcorn, you'd prefer that over the evening with him prior?"

A grimace transfixed Blair's frown. "Sports channel? Popcorn? In the living room?" She scrunched up her nose. "Really?"

With a tilt at the corner of his lips, Chuck eyed her with raised eyebrows, as if daring her to debunk him.

She rolled her eyes. "God, Bass. It seems straight from a babysitting scene. Seriously?"

Chuck nodded.

Blair huffed in indignation, a sign of conceding. "Damn you, Bass."

He just shrugged, the action amplifying his smugness along with his smirk. "You're welcome."

"I can't believe you pulled that off."

"A kiss of gratitude would suffice." He leaned towards her, tapping a finger on his lips.

Blair rolled her eyes. She tried to purse her lips, but she couldn't contain the grin trying to manifest itself as she unenthusiastically pushed his head away. "I still hate you."

He chuckled. "I hate you too."

Because, seriously, wouldn't you hate the one who ruined your date by planning it the way you've been dreaming it to be but what the hell is he doing, just standing at the sidelines, watching?


	3. Is it true

_**Author's notes:**_ I've had this plot idea for some time and I wanted to make this a one-shot, but I haven't pursued this direction yet, so I decided to make this story materialize in this particular collection of mine. Hope you enjoy reading this, coz' the fics are all I have to keep going, what with the long, _long_, **LONG **hiatus of GG. T~T X_x =_=

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: Is it true**_

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"Is it true?"

Chuck turned to the livid voice of Blair Waldorf, her lips thinned in suppressed anger. He could see the whitening of her knuckles as she gripped her books held in front of her chest.

Chuck blinked. "I'll have to ask you to clarify what the _it_ is, seeing that it isn't preceded by a pronoun antecedent."

Blair stiffened like a bristled cat with fur raised. "It's good to know you pay apt attention in English class, but don't try skirting, Basshole," Digging her nails in his arm, she forcefully dragged him to the back of the school before letting go and confronting him. She bared her pearly whites as she hissed through her clenched teeth, "Is it true? Did you do _it_ with her?"

Chuck sighed, uncomfortable. "Again, the lack of pronoun antecedents! Be more specific." He had an inkling at what she trying to interrogate him about, but he'd rather avoid it at all costs, especially with her. But he'd rather not go with assumptions; the optimistic side of him was praying and hoping it would be some other trivial thing.

"You want me to be blunt? Fine!" Blair took a deep breath, attempting to regain some decent composure and poise, but the fury burning behind her brown eyes did not wane. "Did you lose your virginity to Georgina?"

Fuck, he cursed in his head. He decided to play it cool. "Where'd you get the idea?"

"I heard from the whore herself. Came up to me in the girls' shower room after gym." She crossed her arms. "She was bragging about, and I quote, 'bagging a conquest, hooking a boy toy fresh from the sea that'll make such a nice pet' and all that."

He just stared at her, unable to say anything, couldn't even look away from her. Her eyes turned glassy, and despite biting her lower lip, it trembled. She then threw her arms up in defeat before letting it fall to her sides.

"I can't believe she got to you!" She looked about ready to cry in frustration. "First Serena, now you... Who's next, Nate? I swear she's some psychotic bitch who's out to snatch everything I hold dear! She's bent on ruining me, I tell you!"

Yes, he was aware of that. Even before the redhead became chummy with Serena, Georgina has been on a campaign to overthrow Blair. After a particular parent-teacher conference, he once heard Mrs. Sparks scolding her only daughter on her poor scholastic performance, ending with a "why can't you be more like Blair Waldorf?" and he's almost certain that is the triggering event of Georgina's deep hatred of Blair. Serena and Nate never noticed but Chuck could see the way Georgina's eyes darkened whenever Blair topped an exam or won an award or earned praise from the teachers.

He was glad Blair was smart enough to parry Georgina's little schemes against her, and he always backed up Blair. As her staunch ally when it came to Gerogina's attacks, Chuck was the only one Blair could rant on when it came to that crazy bitch, as Blair couldn't retaliate, choosing not to risk losing Serena's affection.

"How could you?!" She slapped his arm. "How could you do it with that... that... that horrendous, malcontent psychobitch?!" She slapped his arm again, and Chuck winced, both from her hits and words. "How the _fuck_ could you not defend your chastity against her?! Ugh!" She then decided to put her book to good use and hit his arm with it instead. "Georgina? Really? How classless can you get?! That's low even for you— hey!" She protested as Chuck yanked the book out of her grasp. He was pretty sure he was going to be sporting bruises tomorrow. "Believe me when I say that is going to be one of my greatest regrets and by far the most idiotic mistake I have done. And she was no where near the one I had in mind of entrusting with my virtue."

"Then explain to me, Bass, because I have a hard time grasping this matter: why in the _hell_ did you choose Georgina for your first fuck?!"

Blair Waldorf swearing meant the rage range was surely over the top. But damn if he didn't find it hot hearing her angered voice and watching her plump lips uttering such profanities. Especially the F-bomb.

He sighed. "It wasn't consensual on my part, alright?" He admitted, embarrassed. "Well, not totally. I don't really know. Or remember much."

Blair's head whipped back, her eyes wide in an expression of shock. "Bass, are you telling me she... she..."

"She took advantage of me, alright? I was both drunk and high for the first time in my life and the next thing I know, she was stripping me of my pants and..." He trailed off and gulped. "My mind was pudding and my muscles were jell-o so I couldn't really fight her off." He looked away, trying to act cool. "Although she's not really who I would've liked to imagine, I can't say I didn't enjoy it."

Yeah, because in his drugged mind, he mistook Georgina for someone else. His delusions of that time were of Blair seducing him, Blair crawling up to him, Blair riding him, and it was her name he cried out when he reached his orgasm. It had been a stupid thing, as Georgina was now set on hounding him, intent on having sex with him in his lucid state of mind just to prove a point that it was she who brought him to the peak of pleasure and not the mirage of a certain brunette.

The bitch was crazy. Damn Serena for letting that psychobitch tag along with them.

Blair's mouth hung open in shock. "Chuck, that's practically rape! You have to report her to the authorities!"

He scoffed as he crossed his arms and glared at her. "As if they'll believe me. And I'd rather not have my dad know his son was taken advantage by a girl!"

"Then what're you going to do?" Blair challenged his stern expression with her own. "Don't think I don't notice Whoregina stalking you. The least you could do is get a restraining order on her psychotic rampage to bed you!"

"Please," He rolled his eyes. He wasn't going to make a scene because of this. Screw his stolen honor. He was more concerned that Whoregina would spill his secret that he was having sexual fantasies about Blair. "We both know the restraining order is more for your benefit than mine."

"Fine," Blair huffed in exasperation. "I admit, she's been hovering around me and taunting me more than usual for a week now. If you had a restraining order, I'd just stick to you and she'll leave me alone. Frankly, I don't care if Serena likes her. I loathe her and I curse her soul to the fiery household of Hell where she was spawned and bred and kicked out. I will not set aside her derision anymore."

"Good for you, Waldorf." Chuck knew that although Georgina had garnered Serena's friendship, Blair, having smelled the stench of evil from the start, never really liked Georgina. Blair only tolerated her presence because of Serena. And Georgina never liked Blair either.

Blair nodded in acknowledgment and resolution. "After what she did to you, I am not going to let that whore get away with it. I'll make her pay."

Chuck smirked. "My, my, Waldorf. You are quite the knight in shining armor for this lad in distress. For defending my honor, I humbly offer you my body." He wagged his eyebrows, making Blair push him as she rolled her eyes. "You're heinous, Bass," her grin betraying her.

Chuck sighed after a moment, his face growing grim. "Seriously, Waldorf. I can fight my own battles. You don't have to get involved."

"Well you're not fighting alone. I won't let you. I won't let her get away with ruining my friends!" Blair said stubbornly.

At that moment, Chuck could only stare in marvel and wonderment at Blair. She was very protective of their circle, and she would never back down from eliminating a threat to her or any of her friends. Unable to deny his appreciation, Chuck was suddenly distracted by the strange yet pleasant sensation of _something_ in his stomach.

"Now come on, we need to put our scheming minds together as we have a plot to weave to get rid of Whoregina."

Leaving no room for arguments or resistance, Blair turned and had just taken a few steps ahead when she abruptly halted.

"Oh, god!" Blair's face then scrunched up in extreme disgust at the sudden random epiphany of the moment. She shook her head as she shuddered before turning to face him again. "Please promise me you will have yourself tested for STDs."

"What the fuck?" He gritted his teeth. Even the irritation he felt right now didn't make the fluttering sensation go. "I am _not_ going to embarrass myself by showing up at the hospital and getting a check-up on my sexual health!"

"Don't worry, Bass, I'll accompany you to a hospital or clinic and we'll go somewhere discreet." She wrinkled her nose. "You need to be cleansed of Whoregina's... essence."

They both shuddered. Chuck's expression of disgust was priceless, as if he had just been splattered dung on his shirt. "God, Waldorf. Could you not..." He shuddered again.

Blair still had a grimace. "I tried." She then looped her arm around his and dragged him away from the secluded area they were in. "In the meantime, we need to stick together and combine our strengths if we're going to fight off Whoregina."


	4. BONUS CHAPTER: I don't know

_**Author's notes:**_ I was supposed to post this earlier, but I had a bit of trouble writing this chappie. I had a sort of roadblock as to the whole material of this chappie, and it was only lately that I determined what I wanted this chappie to contain. It only took a few puzzle pieces to make the picture complete. A bit angsty and dramatic? Pre-S01 scenario once more.

_**projectinglovee,**_ sorry this took so long when I promised I would post it earlier. I ran into a bit of trouble and I wasn't satisfied when I finished. It went through various editings before I got the feel and flow of being satisfied. Plus classes has resumed and I'm stumped with schoolwork already. Crapper! XP

_**Three Words, Eight Letters**_  
Summary:  
How many three words, eight letters combinations are there pertaining to Chuck and Blair's relationship?

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters (bonus chapter): I don't know**_

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Puberty usually hits at twelve or thirteen, sometimes later. Serena started to develop curves and become more womanly in features at twelve. For Blair, it happened when she was thirteen. She had been looking forward to it, had been envious of Serena's blossoming, and had wished for that onset of maturity as soon as possible. She thought she would finally bloom in beauty, and she could stand next to Serena and finally shine.

When it finally dawned, however, it didn't give Blair the boost in herself as she expected. Instead, she was plagued with more difficulty. She had to be more vigilant in her routine, making sure her skin remains clear, keeping her weight in check and her figure slim, ensuring her wardrobe's updated with items that accentuated her image and figure. She had to be more meticulous. How could Serena take this all in stride and still come out looking so much more fabulous than before?

Blair had a theory on that. It's because Serena is made of sunshine and smiles and everything nice. She's the princess the whole kingdom adores. Everyone can't _not_ love her. And everyone seems to gravitate around her because she is the sun. Blair knows, because even she can't help but revolve around her best friend. And apparently her boyfriend too.

It was unfair, because Blair had Nate longer than Serena or Chuck had him. Blair and Nate had been together since kindergarten, whereas they only met Serena and Chuck during grade school. From the beginning, Nate had always been fond of Blair. He had liked her longer than Serena. Nate had always been polite, kind and considerate towards her, and she didn't know how or when, but she began to think of him as a fairytale prince, and ignored the fact that every Disney movie she'd watched had princes with dark hair and never blonde as sand. **[1]**

And now, with the way Nate seemed to look at Serena with a beautiful shine in his smile and his blue eyes, with a glimmer that she had never seen directed at her, she was beginning to feel like an accessory by his side. If Nate stared at Serena with a shine, then it left Blair in the shadows beside her best friend. She could see how he would stare admiringly from a distance at her blonde best friend, and though she never called him on it, she wished he would look to the side and smile at her like he would at Serena when she approached.

Currently, she is stuck with only Chuck for afterschool company as Nate has varsity practice and Serena is with her mother helping her with wedding preparations for the upcoming third marriage of the van der Woodsen matriarch.

She wanted to watch Nate during practice, but he regarded her with irritation the first time she sat on the benches for the whole length of the practice, cheering him on the whole time. After that, he begged her to not visit him during practice. It hurt very much, but she just smiled and agreed despite the rejection she felt. She just wanted to support him, but apparently, she was a thorn in his side.

She wanted to go with Serena, but the blonde couldn't take her along, as Lily wanted them to spend quality family time with Klaus over taste testing.

The credits of Breakfast at Tiffany's begin to roll, and Blair sighed as her favorite movie ended. Chuck sat next to her holding a glass of scotch that he sipped every now and then. Blair made no move to change the DVD or to even let the movie repeat, so Chuck briefly passed the glass of scotch underneath her nose as a distraction. Her face scrunched at the smell of alcohol.

"Eww! Bass!" She hit his thigh, and it was his turn to cringe. "You know how much I hate the stench of alcohol! It makes me dizzy! Ugh!" Blair then stood up and began pacing around, massaging her temples in a circular motion.

"Is something wrong?" Chuck finally spoke up as he watched her walk here and there in front of him. "You've been brooding all afternoon. It's not like you."

Not answering, Blair bit her lip and then stomped her feet. "Ugh! I don't know!" She plopped on the spare space of the couch he sat on, crossing her arms with an indignant huff.

Chuck sighed and threw his head back on the couch and lazily turned to Blair. "What do you want to do so you can feel better?"

A shrug. "I don't know. You decide. You're the one babysitting me."

Chuck could see how low Blair's spirits were (though he didn't know what caused it, really) pretty much six feet under her black leather shoes, what with her usual spunk gone. He knew how to deal with a hotheaded Blair with her witty (albeit biting) remarks, but a brooding Blair, laconic with nothing to say… it was a bit out of his league.

He smirked, ready with a smartass comment. "Well—"

"Nothing sexual, Basshole." She spoke in monotone, but her interruption amused Chuck as he lightly laughed, glad to see that even a tiny spark of the Waldorf spunk is still there.

He cleared his throat to shift to a more serious mode. "How about we talk about what's bothering you today?"

Blair sighed again, this time in a somewhat defeated way that he couldn't understand. "I don't know."

He could only raise his eyebrows at her. "You don't know?"

"Yes, I don't, or maybe I do but I don't think that's it, it's just, argh!" Blair sat up and mussed up her brown curls in frustration. She fell back in a slump. "I just don't know!" She whined as lifted her hands to cover her face.

The truth is, Blair had been feeling down for quite a while. At first, it seemed like a nagging feeling at the back of her mind, not really manifesting itself but she was slightly aware of it. She usually felt its wave when she was alone or at home. She couldn't pinpoint the cause, but it was just there, like it had been lying dormant within but was now slowly manifesting.

They were quiet for a while, until Chuck spoke up. "Will ice cream make you feel better?"

Blair would've scoffed at him (Eleanor had forbidden her from eating high carbs), but she hadn't had the delectable treat in so long, and she knew Eleanor wouldn't find out, so she wanted to just indulge herself, just once. "Ice cream sounds nice."

"I'll get room service then," he stood up to make the call for their order. Having the couch to herself, Blair took a pillow and let it lean on the armrest of the couch. She then settled herself on her side, using the pillow as a prop, and adopted a fetal position with her knees near her chest and her arms underneath the pillow she rested on. She closed her eyes in a form of respite, but she knew she wasn't physically exhausted to be able to fall asleep.

By the time he came back, he had the tray with several small tubs of ice cream and spoons and cups. He wheeled the tray in front of the couch and took his seat at the other end by Blair's feet.

He frowned as he studied her. "Are you sick?"

She shook her head.

"What flavor do you want?" He was well aware that she wasn't asleep.

"A spoon's scoop of everything."

There were about a dozen or so different flavors of Häagen-Dazs. "As you wish," He shrugged and opened the first ice cream container and gathered a spoonful, plopping the serving into Blair's ice cream goblet before proceeding to the next one. With the amalgamation of ice cream flavors complete, Chuck then handed Blair her cup before serving himself with his chosen flavor. His own ice cream glass cup in hand, he sits back and watches Blair spear the spoon into the ice cream mass while he savors a spoonful of Rum Raisin.

"Not to your taste?" He inquires with a raised eyebrow as Blair sighs, ice cream still untouched. "You haven't tried it."

Blair repositioned herself, sitting up with her legs bent from the knees and lying on one side. The ice cream goblet was balanced on top of her thigh as she finally tried a scoop. "It's good. The weather's too cold for me to actually crave ice cream, but it's comforting."

Chuck just blinked. "Good to know."

They sat in silence for a while, just savoring the ice cream. In that time, Blair straightened her legs and dug her feet underneath Chuck's thigh; her toes felt cold against the cloth of his slacks. He didn't mind, not really. He watched her at the corner of his eye, even grinning a bit when her expression scrunched up after a particular bite. Apparently, the mixture of some flavors wasn't exactly delectable. But surprisingly enough, Blair finished the whole serving she had requested at the same time as his. They put aside the empty ice cream goblets, Chuck turning to face her at once.

"Finally had enough thinking time?"

Another resigned sigh to add to the countless others before. "Yes."

"Then spill. Trouble in paradise?"

Another sigh. The sighs were starting to frustrate him. "I don't know."

Chuck couldn't help but roll his eyes and groan. "I've had enough of those three words, eight letters."

Blair withdrew a foot and lightly kicked his thigh, making his knees bounce against once another, before burying her toes underneath the flesh of his upper leg. She crossed her arms. "Maybe. I think it can be considered that."

He frowned. "What's wrong with you and Nathaniel?"

She shook her head in an effort to dissipate the negative thoughts her mind conjured at the question. "Nothing, nothing. We're fine. At least, I think we are."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing, nothing. Forget it."

"I've already informed him of the guidelines. No more ESPN and football games for date nights."

Blair grinned at Chuck's effort to lighten her mood. "Yes, thank you for that one, Bass."

Chuck shrugged with a smirk. He had managed to give Nate a run-through of the guide on How to Date Blair Waldorf the Proper Way (prepared by Blair in an outline). She had come to him after a particular date Nate had planned by himself, and Blair got him to agree to subtly let Nate know of several key points to planning a perfect date (according to Blair Waldorf standards and taste). In return for his services, Blair agreed to help him in a smear campaign against a particular teacher Chuck had developed a particular distaste for.

They settled into an amiable silence once again, until Blair spoke up, wringing the edges of the arm sleeves that ended just at her wrists. "Serena's really pretty you know."

Chuck raised an eyebrow. Sure, Serena was very pretty, but truth was, blondes weren't his type. "Well that was random. Where did that come from?"

"I'm just saying," Blair tried to appear nonchalant, but she avoided looking at Chuck as she spoke about her best friend. She knew Chuck would detect her insecurity and pinpoint her unrest if she allowed him to look at her face.

He frowned, suspicious. "You're not trying to matchmake us, are you?"

Blair rolled her eyes at his farfetched notion. "No."

"Good. Because I don't do double dates. In fact, I don't do dates at all."

"No, you do sluts and call girls," she scoffed.

As insulting as it sounds to most, Chuck just smirked at Blair's demeaning comment. The bitch was showing and Chuck welcomed the peek of one interesting side of Blair Waldorf's multifaceted personality. "Touche, Waldorf. Very witty." Only he could ever find the sick pleasure to praise her for insulting him. That had been their game for quite a while: the one who could deliver the most scathing statement until the other had nothing smartass to retaliate with wins. It's a clash of wits and wills, and it's thrilling.

Blair started again. "It's just, Serena's really attractive and a lot of guys pay attention to her and develop a crush on her, you know."

He shrugged noncommittally. "I don't know," Chuck would never admit that Nate was one of the boys who had also noticed Serena and was paying more attention to her than he should. Sometimes, Chuck had to nudge Nate when the blonde would be staring far too long at Serena's direction.

Blair stared at him, as if trying to gauge his reaction. She blinked before turning away from him again and speaking softly. "You know, lately... Nate seems really, _really_ fond of Serena."

At that moment, at that opening, Chuck could've told her he also noticed Nate's wondering eyes and his appreciation. He could tell Blair she deserved a boyfriend who wasn't more interested in her best friend than his actual girlfriend. Someone who would tell her she was beautiful instead of complimenting her best friend who got more than enough. Someone who would hold her hand automatically without her insistence. This was the opportunity, but looking at her so downtrodden, he couldn't bring himself to confirm her unvoiced suspicion. So he swallowed the truth, feeling bitter and heavy in the back of his throat.

"We're all friends, yes, but you're his girlfriend."

Bros before babes, right? He couldn't speak ill of Nathaniel at his back, even if it were the truth. Because the truth isn't always the best when it hurts. And the damage of the aftermath wasn't worth it, Chuck decided.

"Can I ask you about Nate?"

There was a great possibility Blair would detect his lie if he tried, so in moments of deflecting the truth, he decided to feign ignorance instead if the need arose. The more beautiful the lie, the more the truth would hurt.

"Hit me."

"Does Nate even like me like I like him?"

Chuck shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you ask him."

Blair shook her head. "Well... do _you_ think he likes me in that way?"

Chuck frowned in confusion. "I don't know. How do you like him?"

Blair set aside his question. "Do you think you can find out for me?"

Chuck threw his hands up. "I don't know. I don't speak for Nate."

Blair bit her lip and remained silent. "What does Nate feel for Serena?"

He sighed and slumped. "Don't do this to me."

She blinked at him. "Do what?"

"This interrogation. Don't come to me like this just because you don't want to know the truth."

Blair sat up, retracting her feet. Her mouth hung wide in disbelief and indignation. "I'm asking you because I want to know the truth!"

He faced her. "No, you don't, and you know it. If you wanted to know the truth you would be asking Nate, not me!"

"I asked you a question and you won't even answer!"

"You want the answer from me because if it's not what you want to hear, you can deny it all you want! Well guess what, Waldorf," Chuck sat up and drew his face closer to her, his expression hard and stern as he met her scowl, "I'm not going to make things convenient for you with white lies to reinforce your fairytale movie in that head of yours. It's time you lived in reality with the rest of us." He leaned back to rest on the couch. "Maybe you'll find it's worth living in despite the imperfections and all its crap."

Blair's chest was heaving, her heart pounding in her ears. She stood up and grabbed her bag. "You're a liar," she muttered as she hurriedly put on her Mary Janes. "A big liar."

"You know that's the last thing I am, Waldorf."

His low voice made her pause on her way out the door. She turned back to look at him still sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the black screen of the plasma tv. Blair took a deep, shaky breath and turned around once again.

Chuck flinched when he heard the door slam shut.

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_**A/n:**_ I just realized: in features, Chuck is much closer to a Disney prince than Nate is.

**[1]** Yah... I searched for Disney princes (I do not consider John Smith as one) and voila! Either with hair black as ebony or brown as wood. Check this pic out:

http(:)(2SLASH) .com(/)images(/)photos(/)6000000(/)

or

http(:)(2SLASH) .com(/)

Even the prince in the movie 'Enchanted' is brunette. XD XD XD


	5. I like you

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN GOSSIP GIRL NOR THE LYRICS&TRANSLATION OF "ANNA NI ISSHO DATTA NO NI" BY SEE-SAW.**

_**Author's note:**_ I have to apologize for the grievous error in the previous chappie. Believe it or not, I did not notice it was nine letters until someone pointed it out in a review! Erf. It might actually explain why I had a bit of difficulty with it. However, I actually liked how that chappie turned out, so I'll just consider it a BONUS chappie. XD

I'm now back to regularly working on my fics. Thank god I decided to work on my thesis this summer instead of overloading. Shit. That would've fried my brain. So now, since my classes are done, and all that's left is my thesis and a load of free time, I'm trying to get back on getting myself acquainted with daily fic writing. And I'm cramming my 1st draft of the script of my 2nd play for my thesis. Egads! =_=

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: I like you**_

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_anna ni issho datta no ni yuugure wa mou chigau iro  
arifureta yasashisa wa kimi wo toozakeru dake  
tsumetaku kirisuteta kokoro wa samayou bakari  
sonna kakkowarusa ga ikiru to iu koto nara  
samuzora no shita me wo tojite iyou..._

_**/We were so close together, but the twilight has a different color now.  
The abundance of kindness only keeps a distance between us.  
Our coldly ignored hearts are wandering in the midst.  
If this awkwardness is what it's like to live,  
we shall close our eyes under the cold sky.../**_

-_**Anna ni Issho Datta no ni**_ /We Were so Close Together/ sung by See-Saw (Gundam Seed 1st ED)

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He paid attention when Nate did not. He made sure to compensate for that particular lapse in his best friend's attention by giving his, albeit covertly.

That was when he noticed. The pallor that was a sign of her insecurity, the dark shadows hidden by concealer underneath her eyes... there was a frailty in her constitution that had not been there before.

Ever since that confrontation in his suite, Chuck had felt a little distance from Blair, as if she had taken a step back in caution. He respected it, didn't try to push back to regain that lost footing. Doing so could build a wall between them.

And so, he decided it was time to call for a truce. This time, he would be the one presenting the peace offering. This awkwardness had gone long enough, and he preferred the ground of friendship rather than this sort of standstill in which they couldn't define what they were to each other. He would rather repair the previous stability than linger on with this bridge of uncertainty that seemed to threateningly sway with imbalance. A compromise over a risk. So he decided on a peace offering, a treaty that would convince her he wasn't going to push her about painful secrets anymore, and make her relaxed enough to bring back the status quo of their friendship.

And so, armed with a collection of Audrey Hepburn movies and Lady Godiva in a box, he put a finger to his lips as Dorota met him in the anteroom of the Waldorf abode. A wink accompanied with a smirk, he whispered to Dorota (she stared at him suspiciously before nodding her consent; he had no doubt she knew he had upset her before) that he was planning to surprise Blair and made his way to the brunette's bedroom.

The bedroom was empty, but he heard something in the bathroom. It wasn't running water. It felt imminent, so Chuck did not call out for Blair. Instead, he walked cautiously towards the bathroom door, the echo of his footsteps muffled by the carpeted floor of the bedroom.

He caught her in the act, finger down her throat and mascara smudged by tears.

The acidic burn in Blair's throat had nothing to do with her inability to react at that moment, as she faced a stunned Chuck standing in the doorway of her bathroom.

He wondered if he had pushed her to this, if his words had hurt her this much that she would hurt herself, as if berating herself. It didn't matter if the reason was because Nate seemed to have become enamored by Serena or that her mother has been pressuring her to match Serena's physique. He had been the catalyst; his frankness had turned her to this.

With calm due to the shock that subdued an outburst, he slowly approached her and knelt on the bathroom tiles, tearing off several squares of tissue from the tissue holder located on the wall next to the toilet. Frozen in place as shame stilled her, she didn't flinch when Chuck carefully wiped her face clear of tear marks and mascara blotches. So gently and so kindly that Blair almost wanted to cry again if she hadn't half the mind to not inconvenience him further.

Chuck took her by the arm and lifted her, her legs feeling the prickling sensation of needles while her head achingly throbbed that seemed to worsen as she heard the noise of the gushing water when Chuck flushed down the evidence of her purging. He then led her to her bed and urged her to sit down. She was immobile when he left, wondering if he would return with Dorota, but he came back with a glass of water instead, which he held out for her. She took the proffered glass in silence as he turned around to close the bedroom door and lock it, to ensure their privacy.

He swallowed, his throat dry as he turned to her. "Why?"

Blair just pressed the rim of the glass to her lips.

But Chuck couldn't let it go. He walked in front of her. "Why would you do that to yourself?"

Blair eyes darted left to right in avoidance as she took a few more sips of water to substantiate her inability to answer.

Chuck's lips pursed. "I don't understand, Blair!" He hissed. From the helplessness and frustration, he didn't know how to help her, how to save her.

"I... I..." Blair felt embarrassed, the intensity in Chuck's eyes made her feel that her reason was shallow. She wanted to stand straight, act high and haughty, and tell him that it was nothing, that it didn't concern him. But as of now, she felt intimidated and vulnerable, because she had been exposed in a moment of her greatest weakness. "I... I have a date with Nate tomorrow."

He just frowned at her in confusion, so she took it upon herself to elaborate, carefully considering her words while she set down the empty drinking glass on the carpet. "I-I wanted to look good—"

"If you wanted to look good, choose an amazing outfit, put on make-up, go to a salon. How does sticking a finger down your throat make you look good?"

Blair felt tears pool in her eyes and she stood, feeling irritation bubbling and giving her some semblance of irate stubbornness. "I ate a chocolate bar Serena gave me earlier! I needed to get rid of the calories! I'm already fat enough as it is!"

"You're not fat! One chocolate bar is not going to bloat you like Rosie O'Donnell!"

"I wouldn't have fit in my dress!"

Chuck grabbed her shoulders. He wanted to shake her and make her see the truth, see how he saw her in his eyes. But he refrained, and instead took a deep breath to calm the raging maelstrom of emotions within him.

"Blair." The way he looked deep into her eyes and the soft lull of her name made the last of her restraint in her tears break. She was ashamed enough as it is, having her dirty habit witnessed; she didn't want to further her humiliation by weeping like some distressed damsel. But in that moment, as her eyes scrunched up from the torrent of tears she could not abate, the stifling chains of insecurity and self-doubt loosened its noose around her neck.

"I'm not Serena. I'm not as beautiful as her. I just can't compete with her." She bowed her head, burying her face and tears in the palms of her hands. "My mother's always telling me I should be more like Serena, but I _can't_."

She plopped back down on her bed, causing Chuck's hands to fall off her shoulders. "I just can't compare to Serena. My hair isn't flowing enough, my legs aren't as-as long or-or as sexy—"

"You don't." Chuck stated firmly, causing Blair to glare at him. "You're Blair Waldorf. You're brunette, not some fake blonde. You're more of a porcelain Victorian doll instead of a plastic Barbie."

Blair frowned in confusion. "I don't see how that's comforting. What's your point, Bass?" Chuck had to fight the smirk that wanted to escape because Blair's feistiness finally made an appearance. That meant her fighting spirit was still clinging, because he knew that Blair in total resignation became subdued, passive in defeated acceptance.

"What I'm trying to say is," he took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Even if your physique isn't like Serena's, you're… you're beautiful."

Blair stared for some time at Chuck's face, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

"You… you called me beautiful."

Blair knew Chuck never used 'beautiful' to describe girls. He would say 'pretty' or 'sexy' or 'attractive' or 'fuckable', but never 'beautiful'.

Chuck stuffed his hands in his pocket, shoulders stiffened and eyes darting from his designer shoes to Blair's eyes. "You're the only girl I'd call beautiful."

Blair wanted to call out his bluff of the moment, but seeing him for the first time in a shy boyish stance, she could only sense his sincerity, in his words and in his non-verbals. Chuck had always carried himself in an upright gait; he never looked down when talking to others, even his father. Blair realized she wasn't the only one being vulnerable at this moment.

Chuck cleared his throat. "I like you. You don't have to be like somebody else for me to like you."

Blair swallowed, ridding her throat with the ball of nervousness and doubt that clogged her voice. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" She shyly peeked at him, her hands wringing in her lap.

"Yeah," he nodded, by this time completely staring at the eggshell white carpet. He then looked up to connect with her gaze, and not once did his sincerity falter. "I think you're beautiful, even when you don't think you are."

Why couldn't Nate say things like that every once in a while?

Blair's eyes watered as she felt her heart constrict. She couldn't determine exactly if she were pained or elated. A few tears fell and she bowed her head to wipe away the wet tracks.

Chuck hands were now out of his pockets, but hovered in the air as he loomed over Blair, unaware of what to do. He panicked when he saw her tears, and he didn't know how to comfort her. Should he wipe away her tears? Hug her? Run his hands though her hair? Rub her back? Hold her hand?

"Please don't cry, Blair. I really don't know what to do when you cry," Chuck's words rushed out of him. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

Blair chuckled and looked up at Chuck stiffened by uncertainty. "No, no, it's not like that," She released a breath and smiled at him. "That's just one of the nicest things I've been told. And one of the nicest things coming from you."

Chuck straightened and smoothed the lapels of his jacket, trying to regain a semblance of the Chuck Bass swagger. But his reddened cheeks belied his effort. "Well, you're most likely the only one who's ever going to see the nice side of Chuck Bass. But this isn't a common occurrence, so savor it while it lasts." Chuck had his eyebrow raised, his latter statement an attempt at lightening the mood.

Blair chuckled, feeling slightly better than before. "I wouldn't dream of it, Bass."

"Good to know we're on mutual understanding," Chuck then reached out for the Godiva Dark Chocolate Truffles Gift Box he brought over and knelt in front of her as he opened the lid to exhibit the array of chocolates. "I brought this over with me and I hope it won't go to waste." He offered.

Blair slowly reached out to take one piece and tentatively bit it. Chuck did the same, but plopped the entire piece into his mouth. He nodded in question at her with both eyebrows raised.

"It's good," Blair replied with an affirmative nod as she finished her chocolate piece. Chuck held up the box once more but Blair shook her head vehemently. "I might not fit into the dress I bought for my date with Nate tonight."

Chuck sighed; apparently her disapproving notion of her body wasn't quashed earlier. "How about this: you eat half the chocolates in this box and then try on the dress. If you don't fit in it, we'll go to Bendel's or Bergdorf's and I'll buy you however many dresses to your heart's content and charge it on my credit cards. What do you say, Waldorf? Up for the challenge? You have nothing to lose."

Blair wanted to ask what would be the consequences if she did fit into the dress, but she didn't think it was necessary, because she obviously wouldn't be able to zip the dress over her bloated stomach. But if she didn't she'd have Chuck buy a dress that would hide her unflattering figure. Plus, some comfort shopping would definitely lift her spirits, even if temporarily.

Silently, she reached for another piece and ate it while Chuck followed suit. They silently ate the chocolates, six each, until the box was empty. After they finished eating, Blair stood up and went to her closet to grab her dress. Chuck turned around, and focused on the faint rustling of clothes, trying to ignore the urge to peek.

Blair let out a disgruntled groan. "I can't zip it! I told you I wouldn't fit!" She could feel the tears of frustration, and she urgently wanted to throw up the delicious truffles being digested in her stomach before it can be converted to fat.

"I'm turning around—"

"Don't look at me!' Blair shrieked. She didn't want him to see her unflattering flab.

Chuck held up his hands, not moving yet. "Relax, Waldorf. I'm just going to zip you."

"It's no use!" Blair tearfully wailed as she covered her face, leaving the dress's zipper at the back open.

"Just let me zip up the dress, okay? And I swear not to grope you."

Blair just stomped her foot, her sniffles escaping through her hands blocking her face. She felt Chuck's hand on her waist, his thumb pressing the base of her spine, followed by the smooth travel of the zipper until her dress was properly fitted.

Chuck placed both his hands on her shoulders, and leaned in to her ear to whisper, "Turn around, beautiful."

Gingerly, Blair let down her hands, settling it to her side before hesitantly turning around to face Chuck. Their eyes maintained contact before Blair looked down, smoothing her dress consciously. "Do you think Nate will like this?" She barely looked up, but Chuck could see the vulnerability in her brown orbs, swirling with uncertainty and insecurity, but mostly, with the wish to be loved.

This time, Chuck didn't hesitate to wipe away the leftover tear traces on her cheeks as he tilted up her chin. "I don't see why he couldn't. I like you."

Blair blinked and looked up to his face. There was neither deception nor mockery in his expression as he stared intensely at her. At that instant, seeing his sincerity and support, the insecurities and fear that had weighed her down was lifted.

"See? You still fit in your dress even after six pieces of truffles," triumph was evident in Chuck's tone and smirk. He did love winning and being right. "How about I buy you a piece of your preference in Tiffany's? My credit card's the limit."

It was strange. Her best friend and her boyfriend should be the ones boosting her morale, but instead, they were the ones causing her self-confidence to plummet. And the person who placated her insecurities was the last person (actually she didn't think so) she expected to offer much-needed encouragement.

She smiled, took a step just a little bit closer to him, tiptoed as she placed a hand on his shoulder, and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek that lasted just a second longer. His eyes closed at the brief contact of lips upon his cheek, and like the brushing of butterfly wings, it was gone soon after like a lucid dream.

She pulled away, falling on the heels of her feet. "Thanks, Bass." she offered a shy and grateful smile.

"For you, Waldorf," The corner of his lips lifted to offer a small grin. "Anytime."

She grinned as well. "I like you too, Bass. Even if you think your father doesn't, and more often than not, you don't, either."

**§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§**

_**A/n:**_ Okay. So, CB is becoming heartbreaking to watch like the latter half of S02. The promo made me cringe. It reminds me of CB after Bart's death. That was incredibly painful to watch. Did anybody see the parallelism of ep17 to ep06?

I think GG's plots become shit after the first half. They weren't able to utilize the drama of Bart's death and Bart's death anniversary would've been better without the mother mystery. I was sorely disappointed. That they made us wait months for that? Where was the emotional storyline of Chair? I couldn't really feel it. CB were pretty much their own persons the whole time. In my opinion, the 'bring back mom' plot ruined everything. That type of twist is an effing big NO-NO. They shouldn't have made her the real mom; she should've been a con artist. Geez, I'm not a writer by profession, but that turn of events was a very amateurish idea and whoever agreed to that is so… amateurish. I recommend they take some basic writing classes. XP

By the way, I'm stalling the update on my other fic, 'Chuck Fumes and Blair Flares'. That fic and this one are supposed to be updated in tandem, but since this has more chappies, I think I'd get a head start on this one. Plus, I'm still editing the last chap I posted on CFaBF. And… I'm a bit down due to the latest happening with Chair, so no humor is in for me.

***CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS WELCOME. ^_^**


	6. I know you

_**Author's notes:**_ I wanted to try this one. I guess previous chappies have always been more on Chuck supporting Blair, but I switched the roles. This time it's Blair's turn. I originally had a different direction for this chappie, more on Chair talking about Harold's scandalous escape to France. But I discarded it for this one.

P.S. Ignore the mommy-is-alive turn in S03. =_= That was a crappy decision in story. That kind of twist in plot is actually discouraged, as pointed out in my playwriting class. Up until now, I cannot believe the inanity of that. I'm telling you people, it was utter bullshit. The mother was deus ex machina (another discouragement in writing that several of my writing professors have advised).

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: I know you**_

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The knock was so irritatingly persistent he felt it were to his head and not to the wood. Chuck groaned from the hangover he was suffering as of that moment of awakening. He had no concept of time, of whether it was morning or afternoon. He only knew that he now had to start drinking again if he wanted to completely get through the week.

He blindly reached out at the nearest side table for the trusty bottle of scotch, only to grasp at empty air and wood. The knocking did not stop, as if it were following a continuous stream of quarter notes to make music to match the throbbing in his temple.

As if his hangover had also impaired his brain's function for muscle command, he slithered out of bed, only to land ungracefully with a loud thud on the carpeted floor of his suite. Chuck groaned again, and his hazy consciousness was not helping him at his attempt to free his limbs from the coil of the blankets he found himself entangled.

"Open up, Bass! You can't get rid of me!" The knocking came more loudly and rapidly. "I won't stop knocking even if my knuckles start to bleed!"

Chuck groaned again and gave up on setting himself upright. He lay on his back, the sheets wrapped around his hips and legs. He laid an arm over his eyes and breathed deeply. "Don't be such a drama queen, Blair." He called out in his best attempt to gather his voice at what he hoped was an audible enough volume through the door.

"Then open the door!" The knocking became pounding, and he was certain it was echoing in his head, worsening his headache.

"Open it yourself!" The pounding stopped. Chuck rolled on his side and lifted the sheets over his torso, but he did not count on the weakness of his arms, so he just let go when he couldn't tug the sheet up. He was drifting off to sleep when he felt himself shaken violently.

"What the hell?" Chuck slurred, sleep and intoxication affecting his senses greatly. He was flipped onto his back again, but he did not bother to open his eyes, as his drowsiness and drunkenness made both his eyelids weigh a ton. He thought he had been left in peace when he heard disappearing footsteps until cold water was poured onto his face followed by a slap on his cheek.

"Still alive, Bass? Or do you need your stomach pumped?"

"Fuck," he groaned as he rubbed his temples with his eyes scrunched shut.

"Well?" Blair stood over him as he blinked his eyes.

"My head has a weight of its own, about a ton. I'm not getting up."

Blair sighed exasperatedly at Chuck's dramatics and grabbed a pillow off the bed. She sat down on the carpeted floor and leaned back against the side of the bed.

"Come here," Blair's tone was soft as she lifted his head from the floor, while scooting closer to him. She placed his head above the pillow on her lap.

"Happy birthday, Bass," Blair greeted as she massaged his scalp with her fingers firmly pressing circles.

He sighed appreciatively, enjoying the way the force of her fingers ebbed the headache that was pounding against his head as frequently as the waves crashed the shore.

A comfortable silence ensued for some time as Blair continued her massaging ministrations. Serenity washed over Chuck, something that had eluded him as his conscience disturbed him for the past week with a dreaded revelation. With eyes closed and body stock-still, Chuck felt himself relax, his consciousness just afloat the haze of somnolence.

"What's wrong?"

Chuck just sighed, his newfound tranquility short-lived. "You act as if it's not typical of me to wake up with the worst hangover."

"I know you."

"So this shouldn't come as a surprise."

Blair rolled her eyes. "I can spot the difference between hedonistic debauchery from depressive, problematic inebriety." Digging her arms underneath the pillow, she lifted it slightly from her lap so she could slip away.

Chuck held back the whine of disappointment he wanted to make, not wishing to appear like a childish spoiled brat pouting.

"Sit up and drink up, Bass." Blair soundly ordered. Finally opening his eyes, Chuck found her hovering above him with a glass filled with unidentifiable liquid.

"Hangover fix. I had the room service bring it up to me along with the key to your suite."

So that explained how she got in. Unwillingly, Chuck raised himself up on his elbows, and Blair held the glass to his lips, tilting it as Chuck drank the proffered cure. When Chuck finished, he plopped down on the floor once again as Blair put away the empty glass.

Blair just let Chuck rest as he slowly felt the effects of the hangover fix soak in his stomach. He heard the sounds of the television, and he figured Blair decided to watch while waiting for him. Not much later on, Chuck was compelled to his feet when he felt his stomach churn and bile rose to his throat. He dashed to the bathroom even with his feeble legs and imbalance swayed him from a direct path to the toilet, the target of his projectile vomit.

It was a feat that Chuck managed to hold in the vomit until he was situated in front of the toilet and he let the contents of his stomach empty into the water of the toilet. Blair came in after him and rubbed his back as he threw up, letting him know that she was there. When he finished, Blair flushed the toilet, and with his elbow propped on the rim of toilet seat and his head cradled in his hand, she wiped a wet face towel over his face as he panted from the exertion of nausea due to inebriation.

"Feel better?" Blair inquired as she sat next to him, resuming rubbing his back.

"Somewhat..." He sighed as he closed his eyes wearily.

"Take a shower, you'll feel better when you're clean and it'll help you sober up some more." Blair pulled him to his feet and led him to the shower before she turned and exited the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Some time later, Chuck emerged from the shower. On his bed was a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. After dressing, he came out of his room to find Blair watching Fashion TV.

Chuck sat down next to her on the sofa, a towel hung over his head. She muted the TV.

"This is uncharacteristic of you, Bass," Blair laid back in the sofa and crossed her legs. She meant business.

"You waking up drunk _without_ some skank in bed is not typical."

"Touché." The towel hid the dead expression on his face even as his tone took on his typical devil-may-care drawl.

"And I don't believe that you couldn't hook up with a girl last night. Not only do you have the seductive charms, you also have the money to lure easy women or just buy them."

"Thank you for the compliments," Chuck retorted smarmily. "Why are you here bothering me and not idling away the summer vacation in the Hamptons?" His head fell back on the sofa, his head tilted to the other side, away from her.

Blair sighed and rolled her eyes. "Because my father's in France with his lover, my mother has gone in hiding somewhere, Serena's staying in boarding school, and Nate's off sailing with his relatives. You and I are the only ones left here."

"New York isn't a ghost town, Blair. Look out the window and I'm sure there are plenty more people."

"Chuck," Blair started off with a firm tone, and he knew she just wouldn't back off. "Your diversion tactics won't work on me." She looked at him as-a-matter-of-factly; she wasn't going to let him fester in his own darkness.

Blair sighed, and her tone softened to convey her understanding and concern. "I know you. So tell me what's wrong or do I have to force it out of you?"

"You can ride me and I definitely won't hesitate in spilling." Blair hit his thigh with a fist. Chuck sat up with a groan.

"That's going to leave a bruise..." Chuck hissed through gritted teeth.

"I hope so."

"I'll feel better if you blow me."

This time, Blair smacked his head pretty hard.

"Ah! Not my head, it hurts enough, thank you. I think you smacked hard enough to rattle my brain."

"Or what's left of it anyway." Her tone was irate, but it was evident that she didn't want to put up a fight in forcing him. "Just stop evading, Bass. You know I won't judge you, whatever horrible thing it is that's haunting you now." She held her breath. "We're..." she grimaced with the lack of a better term coming to her mind, "...tight."

Chuck lazily turned to her with raised eyebrows. "Tight? That has a green connotation in my head, but for your sake, I can't believe you just used ghetto language."

Blair yanked the towel off his head and threw it down on the floor, by no means a sign of forfeit but of challenge.

"Chuck—"

"I killed my mother."

Blair stilled at his interruption as Chuck turned away from her, crossing his arms and curling up at the other end of the sofa, mentally forcing sleep upon him as he closed his eyes.

"You have your scoop, so can you just… leave me in peace with alcohol?" He made as if to brush her off by seeming to doze off as he closed his eyes.

For a moment, Blair didn't know what to say, how to comfort. How would she tell Chuck it wasn't his fault, that he shouldn't blame himself, without sounding like she pitied him when she didn't?

"Bart's a jerk." Was the only thing in her mind, so she blurted it out to break the developing silence.

"It's understandable. I killed the love of his life."

"Why do we have to blame ourselves for everything wrong in our parents' lives?"

Chuck opened his eyes and looked questioningly at her, the firm bitterness in her tone a definite head-turner towards her. Blair looked down, unable to face him straight on when she had just exposed a question she asked herself in the dark depths of the privacy of her mind.

"You didn't cause your parents' divorce."

"Where'd you get that idea?" She suddenly became defensively spiteful as she frowned at him.

"I know you." And that was sufficient enough as he went on, unperturbed by her previous nastiness.

She looked down again, softened and finding herself tired of secretive self-blame. "But I did," Blair bit her lip. "The bad fights started when they learned I was making myself throw up."

She noticed that after Serena revealed to her parents that she was bulimic, Harold, who always had pleasantries for everyone, had begun to criticize his wife, sometimes subtly sarcastic and sometimes quite cruelly direct, about everyday things. Eleanor, as is her nature, would not back down silently and instead retort harshly, which would escalate into shouting matches as husband and wife answered back and forth Never mind that Blair's father had just come out of the closet and was now living with a man who was a model for her mother. Blair couldn't help but feel that she had set things in motion because she wasn't perfect, and she had to be sick.

"You couldn't have caused your father to become gay. If anything, you made him stay for far too longer as a straight, devoted husband."

"I know, but I can't help but feel that I jumpstarted all of it."

Blair then shook her head, took a deep breath and stood up. Her expression changed instantaneously as she faced him. "Let's not talk about the disappointing parental figures in our lives anymore. I didn't come here for that. Stay right there," she held up a finger, indicating authoritativeness. "And _don't peek_."

Blair took off, and Chuck obediently held his position, even though curiosity was tempting to turn his head and glance at what Blair was doing.

Blair returned and plopped down next to Chuck, shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, thigh to thigh, closer to his side than the space she previously occupied.

Chuck raised an eyebrow at the white, three-by-three inch box she held in front of him.

"What is that supposed to be?"

Blair rolled her eyes and opened the box, revealing a small chocolate cake decorated with white icing and shaved chocolate. A single candle stood in the middle.

Chuck gulped, afraid that a single motion from him could trigger the damn stinging in his eyes.

"Happy birthday, Bass," Blair softly uttered as she shifted the box to his lap. He remained unresponsive, staring emotionlessly at the small gift.

"I shouldn't be celebrating my birthday. It's not supposed to be a happy day. It's basically sacrilege of my mother's death anniversary." His solemn and low tone meant he didn't want to acknowledge her gift as he lowered the lid to hide the miniature cake from his sight.

How could he celebrate a birth that resulted in more than one death? When his mother passed, it seemed his father's own heart had shriveled away along with her faded heartbeats. For the life of him, he couldn't celebrate his birth, not for what his life had been traded for. There was nothing joyous about the occasion. His father could attest to that when he had to bury his wife a few days later.

Sensing a need for close contact, Blair laid her chin on Chuck's shoulder, but it didn't distract his vacant stare on the cake box. She did not break the solemn silence, because for some reason, she felt the burden of grief on Chuck's heart and conscience, and she wanted to cry, because it was unfair that Chuck had to blame himself for his father's parental delinquency for a tragedy that Chuck couldn't be condemned for.

Only during these private moments, so rare and too personal, that Blair would display a semblance of gentle tenderness that Chuck actually welcomed. They were not the Chuck and Blair that were scheming and devious, they were not the Chuck and Blair that were trying to verbally outwit the other, but they were the Chuck and Blair that had been friends since grade school, who knew secrets about each other that never saw light in the public scrutiny. This moment was one of the few instances in which one delved into the deeper, darker depths of the other's heart to pull the other out of drowning in despair. And even in witnessing this descent, none were turned away in disgust at becoming aware of the blemishes of their beings. If anything , it made them marvel at the discovery of scars and flaws underneath the cloaks of pride, class, wealth, secrecy, and so many other layers that protectively buried the vulnerable core of the heart.

Cautiously, Blair pressed her lips to his cheek, prolonging the contact as Chuck closed his eyes to relish in the comfort of her proximity and genuine understanding. When she pulled away, she leaned her forehead on his temple and closed her eyes. It was easier to be honest this way, when she wasn't so mindful of appearances that deceive and lead so many to misinterpret. "I'm grateful you're my friend, I'm grateful that you're here…" She kissed him on the cheek again, quickly retracting this time, and when she pulled back, Chuck turned to look at her, so she gave a quirky grin that showed an airy sincerity to her words.

"I'm glad that I have you as scheming partner, because seriously, Serena's not that reliable when it comes to takedowns. I'm glad that you're Nate's best friend, because I can rely on you when I can't count on him, which is most of the time," Blair looked up at the ceiling to show how irate she was at the admission that Nate was something more like an accessory than a dependable boyfriend, making Chuck laugh a little that got her to crack a smile. "I'm glad you're the closest friend I consider after Serena, because I have you when she's MIA. I'm glad you know me better than Nate ever could, so you can drill him on what he can do to please me."

She took a deep breath. "And I'm glad that you're here right now, because then I would've been alone and pitying myself."

That was the closest she would get to saying that she was thankful he was born, even if it seemed his father wasn't. She could go on, she had more reasons, but she wanted to make it brief yet succinct.

The corner of Chuck's lips weakly turned up. "You _do_ realize that you sounded uncharacteristically cheesy just now?" The teasing drawl in his tone suggested that although he was still down, he was feeling just a bit uplifted by her attempts.

Blair weakly slapped his upper arm, eliciting a low chuckle from him. "Shut up and eat the cake, Bass. I'm hungry, and you know you're the only one I trust enough to eat chocolate around."

"Half and half?" Chuck inquired as he opened the lid of the box once again. Blair nodded eagerly and gathered a dollop of icing when she ran a finger through the sweetened surface.

"You've marked your half, Waldorf."

Blair just rolled her eyes, sucking the icing on her finger and fighting the grin that threatened to emerge.

"By the way, Waldorf. The birthday boy deserves to be spoiled. Maybe you can feed me?"

Blair smacked him at the back of his head. Chuck just shrugged, his mischievous smirk still in place. Well, he tried.

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_Hito koto de konna ni mo kizutsuku kimi wa  
Kodoku wo oshiete kureru..._

/_**You, who gets hurt with a single word**_  
_**taught me what loneliness is...**_/

-_**Final Distance**_, sung by Utada Hikaru

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_**A/n:**_ Okay, so a li'l bit of fluff. I like to think that pre-s01 Chair is a very close friendship. They're like the bickering friends when casual, but can be very affectionate given the right/private time. Hey, pre-s01 Chair is free land for conquest. XD

The next chappie deals with s01, and the following chappies are more angsty. T~T But then they shall become fluffy. I need to reconstruct my faith in Chair AFTER THE GODDAMN M**EFFERS RIPPED THE SAILS AND RIDDLED THE BOARDS WITH HOLES TO SINK DOWN MY SHIP! F-K YOU JS/SS! F-K YOU!

I'd write them an article on a better way they could've made the plot in the latter half of the season if I could understand how twitter works, coz reading tweets make my head spin. Yeah, that's how effing furious I am right now. I FEEL MURDEROUS. As much as I love Chair, I am not watching the finale nor s04. Chair has been ruined, and I shall hold on to a glorious memory of them. I shall not besmirch their epicness by continuing on with the show. Fuck JS/SS, untalented asswipes.

***CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS WELCOMED, BECAUSE I DID NOT GO THROUGH THIS CHAPPIE SERIOUSLY. I was in such a hurry to post this. X_x**


	7. I need you

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN GG. IF I DID, I CAN ASSURE YOU GG WOULDN'T HAVE TURNED INTO A DAYTIME SOAP.**

_**Author's notes:**_ The quick update is due to the fact that I had this fic almost finished at around the same time the last chappie was. And I persevered with this one until the wee hours of morn. It just feels too bad that the writers didn't feature Chuck in the thanksgiving ep during S01. It would've been more dramatic and more heartwarming with a single Chair scene. And I've had this idea stored as a one-shot. Hehe. XD XD XD So now, I delve into S01. Some future chappies will pertain to S02, but no S03, because I'm taking an AU turn post s02.

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: I need you**_

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It was Thanksgiving, and Chuck was just lounging in his suite, watching a movie. Bart could care less about the holiday; it was not all that important to him, so Chuck was left to his own devices that day. Nate had previously invited him as the Archibalds weren't spending Thanksgiving with the Waldorfs this year, but Anne told Nate they couldn't expect guests (given the scandal, she was much too embarrassed), so Nate had to apologetically uninvite him. Chuck refused to let on his disappointment at spending that holiday alone, so he just shrugged it off, and patted Nate on the back, saying he'd rather not be in the middle of a family affair that could get messy. The blonde agreed, and they left it at that to bond over hash and Wii.

The ringing of his phone distracted him from watching Scarface, and he paused the DVD player on Al Pacino's face to tend to the caller. For a moment, as he saw the name on his phone screen, his heart halted for just a second before being revived with greater thuds.

"Waldorf."

"... I need you."

He bolted upright and grabbed his jacket, taking quick and long strides. "Okay, I'm on my way—"

Chuck opened the door, and was surprised to see the person on the other line already standing outside his suite. As they stared at each other, Chuck slowly lowered his phone from his ear, a move which Blair mirrored.

"Blair—"

Once again, he was interrupted, but this time, because Blair suddenly threw herself on him, her arms around his neck and her face hidden in the crook of his neck.

A bit shell-shocked at the sudden physical contact, Chuck just stood stock-still before he pulled his senses together and embraced her, burying his face in her brown curls and inhaling the floral aroma of her shampoo, her presence and her scent like aromatherapy in effect.

The truth is, he is the one she goes to unburden emotional baggage, believe it or not. She actually prefers Chuck's "that's pretty crappy, what are we going to do about it?" to Serena's "it's okay, B, it'll be okay" because she'd rather have his empathy (no matter how perverted his humor is just to make her laugh and feel better) than Serena's sympathy and baseless reassurance for comfort, which really isn't reassuring at all.

They stayed in the embrace for quite some time, Blair basking in its comfort and Chuck relishing the company. Blair turned her head away from his neck, her cheek resting on his shoulder, while Chuck covered his face in her curls.

Eventually, they pulled away to look at each other. Chuck briefly looked past her and slightly leaned to push the door closed, ensuring their privacy before he turned to her again. Chuck lifted a hand to rest on her cheek, his thumb caressing.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly. He always worried when she was like this.

Blair weakly smiled and resumed the previous embrace. "I am now," she answered with a relieved sigh and a hidden smile.

Contrary to what others thought (that included Serena and Nate, and even Chuck), Chuck knew how to make her feel better, how to invoke her forlorn hopes when she was rock bottom. Blair remembered feeling glum at some wedding because Serena and Nate had apparently bailed after being gone for quite some time; Serena was drunk and Nate most probably disappeared to take Serena home. Blair was moping in their table, irate that she had been left behind by her best friend and boyfriend without a word of farewell from both, when Chuck suddenly took her hand and pulled her to her feet, dragging her to the dance floor and moving her along to the giddy beat of Wham!'s _Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go_. The hilarity of watching Chuck shake and twist his hips while his shoulders moved up and down as he lip-synced to the song made her laugh out loud and loosen up to dance her heart's insecurities away, her first taste of liberty from inhibition. Gossip Girl even posted a clip of them dancing, and Blair had to say, they looked like a very stylish dancing couple from the 60's. Since then, the song had become her happy groove.

Chuck and Blair just stood still for a good while, both content in their embrace. Chuck pulled away, rubbing her back as he looked in concern to her.

"What's wrong?"

Blair sniffled and ashamedly bowed her head. "I… I had a relapse."

Chuck took a deep breath and released it slowly as he pulled her into his arms once again, which Blair welcomed.

Out of the few people who knew, only Chuck had a different approach to her. Serena's solution was to inform Dorota or compel Blair to see her doctor. Eleanor's solution was to instruct Dorota to watch over Blair's eating properly. Harold's solution was to shower attention, take her shopping and bring her gifts. Nate did not suspect anything, hence he wasn't concerned with it.

But Chuck… Chuck was the only one who took the time be with her, and listen to her without a time constraint, without being paid. He never treated her delicately and patronizingly, he wasn't afraid to ask the questions everyone was afraid of the answers to (Why? What, _who_ caused it?), and she found it relatively comforting that he let her cuddle next to him, and he joked once that she seemed like a kitten.

"Daddy didn't come." Blair spoke softly as she lied on her side, her head on a pillow that was on top of Chuck's lap. She was curled up, Chuck's hand resting on her forearm. They were on the couch, _Breakfast_ _at Tiffany's_ playing on the flat screen, though it went ignored.

Chuck remained silent, allowing Blair her own pace in telling what had pushed her to relapse.

"I thought he would at least come and be with me on our favorite holiday. It's the first Thanksgiving without him."

She sniffled, but her eyes were dry even when her voice tearfully croaked. "But then I learned my Mother uninvited him without even taking into account how I feel, that _I_ wanted to see him even when she didn't. And she _lied_ about how I felt about Daddy coming to visit."

She sniffled again. "It's so unfair."

"But that's not what really triggered your relapse." Chuck knew there was something that troubled her more deeply than Eleanor's inconsideration of her daughter's feelings.

Blair immediately lifted herself and faced Chuck, her eyes brimming with tears. "It shouldn't have deterred Daddy from trying to contact me. It shouldn't have stopped him from picking up the phone and calling me to greet me on Thanksgiving, and-and asking me how school has been, and-and being updated on my life… I wait but he _never_ calls! He's never called since he moved away to Paris!"

Blair covered her face with her hands for a second, trying to regain her bearing. She then wiped her tears and sighed before plopping down on the pillow on Chuck's lap, curling up once more with her hands under her chin.

"You being his daughter should be reason enough for him to call regularly." Chuck voiced out her thoughts.

"But he doesn't because he's happier with _Roman_," the scornful inflection of her voice illustrated to Chuck just what she thought of the man who held her father's affections. But just as instantly, her tone turned sorrowful. "He's forgotten about me. He doesn't care anymore."

Chuck silently sighed and rubbed her forearm to soothe her. "I can't speak for Harold, but maybe he's afraid of confronting you. Apparently it runs in the Waldorf family." Not that the Waldorfs never met people head on, whether it's at court or school or runway, but when it came to confrontations of the heart, neither Eleanor nor Harold nor their daughter could handle deeply personal discussions among themselves, especially when it came to difficult issues like Blair's bulimia or Harold's sexuality. It was dealt with either silent tolerance or feigned unawareness. Denial was a coping mechanism inherent in the Waldorfs.

"You know I'm not a fan of confrontations either, but you should talk to your mother."

Blair whined. "I hate talking to her! She never listens! In her head, she'll always be right because she has authority over me as a parent!"

"Better to let it all out on your mother than keeping it in."

Because those unspoken words festered inside her, and made her attempt to purge it with the food in her stomach.

They were silent for a while, and Chuck decided to break the silence. "Well… Seems like Daddy dearest is a jerk—"

"Hey," Blair weakly protested with a laugh as she recalled that it was _her_ line previously pertaining to Bart.

"—and Eleanor's a bitch."

"True." Chuck was trash talking her mother and father, but in a twisted way, it made Blair feel better, knowing that Chuck thought the same disregard of her parents. Chuck was in line with her thoughts and feelings, and if she had been with Serena, the blonde would've searched for something redeeming Eleanor and Harold, and right now, Blair just wanted someone to understand that there was no excuse for her parents for being screw-ups.

"We can't do anything about our parents, so to hell with them today, and let's just relax. It's a holiday, let's forego family drama. Let's have a quiet moment of Thanksgiving, shall we?"

Blair giggled, already feeling better because she had let out these hidden burdens, and Chuck's company was definitely promoting the betterment of her mood.

"Order chocolate pudding." Blair demanded as she sat up. Chuck never let anyone boss him around, but Blair was the only exception in certain circumstances.

"I'll have éclairs," Chuck commented as he walked away to call room service.

"Oh, and pie! I want pie with my pudding!" Blair shouted her request at Chuck who was already on the phone enumerating their food order.

Blair sat back, now attentive at her favorite movie, already feeling better than before she came seeking him. Chuck had the uncanny capability to huff away her troubling thoughts. He made her feel sexy even after indulging in sweets with him, he made her feel confident even when she was beside Serena, he made Eleanor's comments on Blair's weight and body seem inconsequential and untrue when he would roll his eyes behind Eleanor's back and whisper to Blair that she was, is, beautiful. Certainly, for a stubborn girl like Blair, it was prowess in persuasion that Chuck managed to dispel Blair's negative notions of herself, a product of her deep-seated insecurities. Those pessimistic thoughts never completely perished; it came back to haunt her from time to time, but Chuck could make her disbelieve them.

As soon as the food arrived, Chuck and Blair merrily chatted away the time while indulging in éclairs, pudding, and pie, along with a bottle of Dom Pérignon. Their mini-celebration lasted until Blair saw the time and remembered her mother. She assumed that by this time, the guests had left and Chuck convinced her to talk to her mother, even if it might turn ugly. A shouting match was better than silent treatment; at least there was a chance at honesty being out in open communication, no matter how painful, rather than going through uncertain guessing of what the other had in mind. Chuck even admitted he would rather have Bart shouting and lecturing him than his father's cold silence of disappointment and disapproval.

"Why didn't you come to our penthouse for Thanksgiving earlier? You missed last year's with us because you were away with Bart, but he's not here." Blair inquired as Chuck walked her to the door.

He hadn't attended last year because Bart had taken him to Macau on one of his business trips in order to familiarize his son with the new business acquisitions of Bass Inc. in that area. Blair remembered how thrilled Chuck was that his father had thought to include him; she had to tell Chuck to calm down as he called several times for assurance on his way to meeting his father on the airport. But as for this year, Chuck didn't dare attend the Waldorf Thanksgiving because he didn't want Blair to feel uncomfortable during a holiday celebration. That, plus he wouldn't know how to face Harold, who was unaware that his daughter's chastity had been claimed not too long ago by none other than the infamous UES Casanova Chuck Bass. Chuck knew he would definitely sweat, stumble, and stutter around Harold.

Chuck just shrugged. "I thought I wasn't invited."

Blair sighed. "It's wrong that you have to be alone on Thanksgiving. I'll drop by tomorrow, and we'll have a small post-Thanksgiving brunch or something." She fixed his bowtie, her fingers itching to just dawdle with the colorful accessory. What do you say?" She bit her lip, hoping he didn't have any plans.

"I'll just be idling the day away in my suite anyway, so your intrusion is very much welcome."

Blair laughed and playfully shoved his shoulder, causing him to chuckle as she rolled her eyes and opened the door of the suite, making a graceful exit. "See you tomorrow, Bass," she called out over her shoulder as she left the door open for Chuck to close.

"I'll be expecting you, Waldorf!"

The next morning, Blair does arrive in his suite for brunch, with a small apple pie for them. They talk over orange juice (Blair has forbidden any type of alcohol for both of them that morning) and scones, croissants and muffins. There's also ice cream for dessert, which even Blair enjoys. They laugh a lot, which they notice and Blair jokingly points out that maybe Chuck secretly had the chef mix a "special" ingredient to the muffins. The atmosphere is light and Chuck wonders why the air in the suite suddenly feels so fresh in his lungs.

After the delightful meal, they sit in front of the TV and Blair chooses the movie. After _Charade_, he kisses her on the cheek and mutters thanks for the wonderful post-holiday celebration. She stares at him for too long a moment before kissing him chastely on the lips. She pulls back and they stare at each other, before their lips once again come together, but this time in a flurry of desire that overwhelms them. They heavily make out in the couch before they take things to the next level in bed. He can't even remember the transition from the couch to the bed, only aware of the lips and tongue in delicious contact with his own and his hands all over her body.

And when she stopped him from removing her clothes ("I just ate, I'm bloated."), insisting on just having her panties removed; he kissed a path from her throat to her clothed midsection, and then gingerly lifting her dress, pausing to admire her bare legs and her matching La Perla's before daring to lift it further to reveal her stomach. Blair cried out and tried to tug her dress down, but he held her wrists at her side and kissed her belly button ("You're not bloated; you're beautiful. You've always been beautiful."). With his insistence in words and action, she relaxed, and with the sunlight streaming through the windows, basking the suite in the day, she shyly bared herself as did he, both in slow movements, their intense gazes never leaving the other's eyes. They spent the whole afternoon in bed, giggles and moans mixing as they basked in daylight and pleasure.

Later on, Blair will wonder if sex is always that amazing, and secretly asks herself if that's what making love feels like, while Chuck will wonder why sex with Blair is levels more fulfilling than all the other women he's slept with combined and secretly thinks she is all the difference in having sex and making love.

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**Whisper three words and I'll come running…**

**And girl you know that I'll be there… I'll be there…**

-_**You are Not Alone**_, sung by Michael Jackson

**§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§**

_**A/n:**_ I love this chappie. A bit smutty, which I avoid writing but crave reading, but I liked how this turned out. Chair intimate right through the soul. XD XD XD

And I am so hooked up on Wham!'s song, "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" even though it's a pretty old song. XD XD XD Anyways, the dancing is like a foreshadowing to Victrola. And I covered Chuck's absence in the thanksgiving flashbacks of the ep.

To **Courtney**, my anonymous reviewer of the previous chapter, I already have those 2 3w8L in my list, as you can see. The other one is coming soon. XD XD XD Don't worry. XD XD XD Hope you liked this. And as for s04… I would've given it a chance, if I hadn't gotten wind of the CW press release. Chuck's getting a girlfriend next season. The atrocity makes me want to vomit and tear my hair out. We suffer through 2 years until Chair finally gets together, then we only have them together briefly. It's UNFORGIVABLE, even considering the bullethole, that Chuck suddenly acquires a "replacement" so suddenly and so soon after breaking up with the love of his life. At this point, I just want GG to be CANCELLED before they are able to completely destroy the remains of Chair. Ed and Leight deserve better projects than a disgraced tv show that has apparently downgraded itself to that of daytime soap.

Motherfudging talentless writers/producers! You know there's something wrong when fans start hating the writers rather than the characters. I know everyone is entitled to their opinions, but anyone who thinks the EPIC FAILnale was somehow awesome, take some playwriting classes. It is a FAIL, I tell you. FAIL. But apparently you bought the bullshi~t and mediocrity of JS/SS. I feel sorry for you being a member of the clueless minority.

I must quote Blair on the EPIC FAILnale:  
"**A: gross. And B: REALLY?"**

***CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS WELCOME, btw.**


	8. Go to hell

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN GG. IF I DID, I WOULDN'T HAVE LET IT BECOME A DAYTIME SOAP.**

**_Author's notes:_** This is pretty brief and short, because... well... hehe. You'll understand. I was so amused when I discovered this 3w8L combination. XD Plus, if you noticed from before in the chap titles, there used to be a fraction that would indicate how many combinations I have done. Well, I've decided to forego that. Just when I thought I couldn't find another set of 3w8L, I did! Now there's a total of 17 chapters, excluding the bonus chappie. X_x

_**Three Words, Eight Letters  
**_Summary:  
A sentence list that consists of three words, eight letters pertaining to Chuck and Blair's relationship.

**§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§**

_**Three Words, Eight Letters: Go to hell**_

**§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§**

Chuck quelled the anger that boiled within him when he saw Blair's lustrous brown curls received a spoonful of yogurt. Blair's expression took on hurt and humiliation, and Chuck couldn't understand where his broken heart dug the urge to shout at the students tormenting Blair with their whispers and reproachful gazes. He couldn't understand such a desire to defend Blair's honor when it was he in the first place who debased her reputation.

Serena immediately embraced Blair to comfort her (most probably to prevent her from running away), and they hurriedly proceeded inside the school building. If Blair had braved the student body alone and went through the school gates without the blonde support, Chuck surmised he would've done something stupid and contradicting, like maybe playing the knight in black armor to the disgraced princess he himself accursed.

Damn the guilt. He wanted to shout at it to stop stabbing his bleeding heart; it was already broken, it didn't need to be stomped on by guilt.

He seethed, turning around to go inside the building and start another school day with a boring class. Well, he only had three words, eight letters for the inescapable internal nagger: _go to hell_.

**-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-**

The class was boring, and Chuck didn't even hear a word of the teacher's academic lecture when all he could think about was Blair. He needed to expel her out of his thoughts where she was etched permanently. If he could just dull her essence in his mind, he'd be able to go back to life pre-Blair, pre-limo, pre-Victrola. That life was meaningless and more empty now that he did not even have the few friendships he had before, but the hedonistic escape was better than this oppressive remorse that gripped his insides and was forcing him to curl in pain within the dark where no one was watching, when the alcohol and the drugs had lost its loosening effect on the innate torment.

With good ol' dependable hashish in his pocket, Chuck left the classroom without asking for a pass, the teacher ignoring his unsubtle exit. Chuck decided he would keep his smoking within school premises, and decided on the rooftop. He turned a corner and immediately backpedaled, pinning his back on the wall and warily peeking his head at the hallway. The resounding clacks of high heels on the marbled floor were prominent echoes in the empty halls.

Chuck could not help the sudden hammering of his heart and cursed silently at his nervousness. He was Chuck Bass, why the hell had he been the one to hide from a chance encounter with Blair? He was way, way beyond her in the social hierarchy as of the moment; he should not have to avoid her. He watched her take the stairs up, and he wondered why she would be going to the fifth floor during class hours. The rooms on that specific floor were practically like storage units for school property. The only reason students went up there without the teacher's prompting was because the bathroom on that floor was the cleanest (being unused yet cleaned most of the time) and would offer the most privacy, as it was very rare to run into anyone there. He would know; he'd used it as a venue for a few sexual trysts.

Driven with a sense of urgency, he stealthily followed the noise trail of clanking heels on marble flooring. He had seen her expression of frustration. Her face was scrunched up, either from frowning or from the effort of pushing back tears, he couldn't decipher. But he was certain that she was upset, and given the circumstances, the loss of her prized reputation and the mockery of the student body, it would most probably lure her back to indulging in a harmful habit.

Taking the steps two at a time, Chuck made sure his footfalls didn't create noise that could alert her. He also made sure that he wasn't that far behind her, but he wasn't too near that she'd sense someone was following her. On a turn of the stairs, Chuck briefly caught the expression on her face, a multitude of overwhelming feelings portrayed in her delicate features: distraught, frustrated, hurt.

Chuck couldn't understand his concern for her. He cursed her heavily in his mind, condemned her to ruin and suffering when she rubbed in his face the fact that she had chosen the golden boy over him, when all he wanted was to dance with her, be with her in the open, be the prince on her arm. And he couldn't understand either, why he felt Blair had cheated on him when the truth was, Chuck had been the one deceiving his best friend by indulging in an affair with Blair, an affair that cost Chuck the friendships of both Nate and Blair.

When Chuck reached the top of the stairs, his peripheral view caught the open swing of the bathroom door to the ladies' loo. He purposefully walked towards it and turned the knob, slowly opening the door but creating a distinct, loud sound. He almost didn't catch the quick disappearance of feet underneath the stall. If Chuck hadn't been aware beforehand that Blair was there, he wouldn't have suspected anyone was present.

He slowly walked inside, releasing the door and letting itself close with a loud slam. He casually strolled inside and did not give any indication that he was aware of anyone else being in the bathroom. He casually leaned against a sink and took his time in rolling up a joint. All the while, neither movement nor sound could be heard besides what minimal noise he was making. Chuck rolled his eyes as he finished fixing a joint he had suddenly lost interest for.

"I know you're here."

No response. Chuck waited for any indication that she was coming out of hiding, but he shouldn't be surprised; typical of Blair to deny that she had been caught.

Time to play hardball. "Come out, Blair," Chuck called her out as he stood in front of the stall he knew she occupied with her feet held up, and knocked fast and furiously to annoy her out of hiding. He did not cease his knocking, and he made it known by his persistence.

"Go to hell!" Was the reply she doled out to him.

"Sorry to tell, but this is hell, princess," Chuck retorted as he stopped knocking when he heard the click of the lock, and the stall door opened to an irate Blair.

"You better not be doing anything other than pissing or shitting in there."

Chuck just can't grasp why he's furious not at her presence, but at what he suspects that she was about to do if he hadn't come across her and decided to be nosy.

Overwhelmed with rage, Blair pursed her lips, seething at the Basshole's audacity to interfere. She's so angry that she can't get past the blockage at her throat, an impending sign of crying. She remembered how he compared her to his father's Arabians, and at this point, she just wants to get away before he sees her fall apart rather than stay to fight and push him with scathing words (she knows it won't be a one-sided clash; he'll surely hurt her as well). Either way, she knows she's going to end up crying from frustration and anger and regret and sadness, and many other emotions that drive her to bulimic tendencies. But with a startling epiphany, she was horrified to realize that his timely intrusion made her get a grip on her sensibilities and strayed her from the destructive tendency she was about to partake in.

"What do you care?" Blair wasn't about to be vulnerable to him, especially not about her almost bout of bulimia. There was a time when he was the person she could rely on the most, more than Serena or Nate, but now she couldn't trust him to not send a tip to Gossip Girl about her condition.

He can't answer her so Chuck just equally glared at her, his lips also pursed. Because even if he hates her right now, he can't help but care about her wellbeing. He had always had a soft spot for her and damn it, the lodged words that won't go past his throat is suffocating, and the heart he's forgotten aches.

Neither Chuck nor Blair refused to stand down by lowering their defenses in favor of sincerity, instead determined to hold out to the bitter end of their grudge. They were aware of this specific nature of theirs, their unwillingness to forgive a trespass upon them, preferring to hold on to contempt rather than move on and forget. Never did they think they would have come face to face in bitterness at the aftermath of falling out, on opposing sides with a visible dividing line that may as well be a thick brick wall.

Blair glowered back at him, fighting the tears pushing against her eyes at his silence. "Go to hell." She repeated spitefully, roughly pushing past him, intent on exiting the bathroom to go back to the classroom instead of holding out any longer for a verbal and psychological combat that she knew would weaken her, no matter how devastating the blows she also dealt on her opponent. Academics was always a welcome and more effective distraction from troublesome affairs of the heart, and she could channel her frustrations for a good cause (she should more intensely focus on Yale now with SATs approaching) rather than sticking her finger down her throat.

"At least I won't be lonely in hell!" Chuck called out at her retreating back. Blair sent him another glare as she opened the door and left Chuck feeling victorious that she had retreated at this confrontation, and also quite accomplished that he had managed to avert her intention for self-destructive purging, if only this one time.

**§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§**

**_A/n:_** Chuck's last line is not mine, btw. Sounds familiar, huh? XD XD XD I was inspired to write this when I saw Blair glare at Chuck in passing and he just returned her with a smirk before he approached Serena. So adorable~! There was electricity, though they're more along the wavelength of hate. =_=

Inspired by the songs "**This is Hell**" by **Elvis Costello** and "**Gives You Hell**" by **All-American Rejects**. XD XD XD

Now that's the three words, eight letters I wanna deliver to JS/SS! Motherfudgers! My grudge is as strong as ever. RAWR~! WRATH! VENGEANCE shall be mine one day!

***CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS WELCOME, btw**


	9. I am sorry

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN GG. IF I DID, I WOULD'VE REFUSED TO LET IT BECOME A DAYTIME SOAP.**

_**Author's notes: **_Okay. It's drabble-ish. But this short piece actually captured what I wanted for this chappie, for this 3w8L combo. Funny, cause I finished this before I finished chapter 5.

**-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-**

_**Three Words, Eight Letters: I am sorry**_

**-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-**

_kowareru hodo aishitemo sanbun no ichi mo tsutawaranai_  
_junjou na kanjou wa karamawari I love you sae ienaideiru my heart_

_**/Even if my love reaches the breaking point, 1/3 of it won't reach**_  
_**My true feelings are just spinning on air, my heart isn't even saying "I love you..."/**_

-1/3 no Junjou na Kanjou [1/3 true Feelings] sung by Siam Shade (Rurouni Kenshin 6th ED)

**-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-**

Chuck is in the bar, helping himself to a whole bottle of scotch. A few girls have come up to him, trying to engage him in conversation, but he flat out ignored them. He never even spared a side glance at them whenever he shrugged off their attempts to physically connect with him, like they were flies bugging him and he was swatting them away.

Emptying the last drop of the scotch on his glass, he drank it in one gulp.

Perhaps it was the lack of anything to occupy him given that he couldn't pilfer another bottle of alcohol from the bar that made him reach for his phone. His eyelids were drooping, and his eyesight was hazy, but he could clearly read her name as he scrolled down his contacts, and hit the call button.

The phone rang and rang, and Chuck rested his head on his free arm, not loosening his grip on the phone next to his ear. Then the ring was cut, indicating that the call was picked up, but neither Chuck nor Blair spoke.

Just hearing her breathe on the other end made Chuck feel just a bit more calm, and he thought he could catch sleep with beautiful dreams and wake up the next morning without regretting the hangover.

"Why'd you call?" Blair finally spoke, her voice soft and resigned.

Chuck's throat worked to vocalize his one thought at the moment. "I am sorry."

A pause. "Is that it?"

"I am sorry."

He hears her take a deep breath, but recognizes the prolonged sniffle-in-disguise and he mentally apologizes for making her cry. Again. Why was it that all he could do these days was hurt her when before, he could always comfort her?

"Not exactly the three words, eight letters I wanted to hear and you know that." She retorted after a few seconds of silence.

"I am sorry. I really am."

"You know what Chuck?" It's evident now in the strain of her voice that the tears are about to fall. "You're drunk. Go to sleep. You probably won't even remember this tomorrow. I'm calling Eric."

The click is like a jab and the dial tone is like the pain that lingers. He wonders if she really is that far away as he feels she is. And though he can barely remember Eric dragging him from the bar to his room in the Rhodes summer house, the call is so vivid in his memory despite the hangover. But even more so, he can still hear the echoes of the dial tone and the pain in his heart that can't even utter those words.

All he can do now is apologize to her. For being the way he is, for not being worthy enough, For hurting her, for deserting her, for being scared... the list of regrets he never ran out of items to add. But his mind was too heavy, and the only words he could utter clearly were:

_'I am sorry. I really am.'_

**-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-§¨•¨§-¤-**

_dore dake kimi wo aishitara kono omoi todoku no darou_  
_mitsumerareru to ienai kotoba ga chuu ni mau_  
_hanarereba hanareru hodo itoshii hito da to kizuku_  
_motomereba motomeru hodo ni setsunai kyori wo kanjiteru my heart_

_**/Whoever you love, these images will reach them, right?**_  
_**Don't say you can find them, your words are dancing in space.**_  
_**The further apart you go, the more it hurts the person you love**_  
_**The more I chase them, the more my heart feels the cruel distance.../**_

-1/3 no Junjou na Kanjou [1/3 true Feelings] sung by Siam Shade (Rurouni Kenshin 6th ED)

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_**A/n:**_ I don't know if you people got it, but this happens after Blair goes off with Marcus when Chuck can't tell her the 3w8L she demanded. After the White Party, when we see Chuck in the bar drinking.

Still frustrated over Chair! I'm set on not watching s04 because I hear they're revamping Chuck Bass because of a bullethole, and along that change is a stupid, stupid girlfriend! It's official: CHUCK BASS IS DEAD! I would've let the lame cop out go if it propelled him to fight for Blair! But no, the shitty writers have to give him a girlfriend instantaneously when we had to suffer 2 FRIGGIN YEARS to get them together, only to have them ripped apart quickly! MOTHERFUDGING WRITERS! The inanity of these writers are making me want to strangle myself! ARGH!


	10. I want you

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN GG, NOR THE SONG 'LOVE LETTER' sung by BoA AND ITS ENGLISH TRANSLATION.**

**_Author's notes:_** I wrote this because there should've been Chair at Blair's 18th bday! Chuck should've made an appearance! Even if it's just one scene! XP XP XP A huge leap in time from the previous chappie, but... I just had to. XD

_**Three Words, Eight Letters  
**_Summary:  
A sentence list that consists of three words, eight letters pertaining to Chuck and Blair's relationship.

**§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§**

_**Three Words, Eight Letters: I want you**_

**§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§**

Her pre-birthday bash had just ended two hours ago, Serena and Cyrus being the only leftover guests staying the rest of the night in the Waldorf penthouse while the rest of the partygoers had already left. Cyrus and her mother had holed up in Eleanor's bedroom (she didn't even want to think about what they could possibly be doing) while Serena, having consumed alcohol in an amount past sensible, was already deep in heavy drunken sleep.

Though the night had been exhausting, Blair found that she couldn't quite find somnolence settling in yet. The night had been great, though not as eventful as that of last year's. Serena mumbled before turning on her side, and Blair winced as the buxom blonde gnashed her teeth, something Serena did when she slept drunk. Sighing, Blair got out of bed and took her phone with her, tiptoeing to her closet (the stealth was just in case Serena awoke, although she slept like a comatose patient) and settling herself in the enclosed space. She closed the door of her massive closet and sat in a corner, the hems of several dresses hiding her face.

Flipping her cell phone open, Blair decided to just get the call over with.

A single ring before the call was answered. "Isn't it a bit late to be calling? Or should I say, way too early than appropriate?"

She rolled her eyes; that was not even a proper greeting, but she was secretly pleased that he didn't have company that night, or else he would've just let his voicemail take it.

"Hello to you too, Bass. And it's quite a surprise to see you're still perky and dandy at this time. I hope I didn't interrupt anything that might've led to your bed. Who's the unfortunate girl?"

He chuckled. "Any girl I take would be oh so very fortunate in my company. I'd tell you to gather testimony, but I don't know who to refer you to, except yourself."

"Ugh, you're heinous, Bass."

"You called me just to tell me that?"

Blair let out a disgruntled sound. "No, I did not!"

"Is this a booty call then?"

"Ugh! Can you veer your sex-track mind off that road and pull over for a minute?"

An amused chuckle was her answer. "Alright, birthday girl, why did you call?" His voice had taken a dive of seriousness and she knew he was no longer continuing the banter with which they started. She took a deep breath. "You didn't crash my party tonight."

"Your mother was there."

Blair laughed, and Chuck found himself smiling at the sound of her merriness, knowing he had caused it.

"Oh come on, Waldorf. We both know your mother is an intimidating woman who may have the capacity to actually make me pee in my very expensive slacks if she so wished to turn draconian on me."

Another hearty round of laughter for Blair.

"Well, I guess it's hereditary of Waldorf women then? Now I know I have my mother to thank for."

"Apparently so," Chuck replied as they both chuckled.

"So," Chuck drawled into the receiver, "what can I get the celebrant for her birthday?"

Blair let out a whoosh of breath. "I want you."

Chuck raised his eyebrows in disbelief, and he was rendered speechless for a second. "Excuse me? I must've not heard right."

"Hmm..." Blair made a sound of contemplation just for show. Her mind was made up. "Yeah. I want you." She suddenly felt embarrassed.

Now he was amused. "Oh really?"

"Yes, Bass. I want to celebrate my birthday with you. I want to stay up with you on my birthday's eve to wait until midnight. Is that so hard to believe?"

Chuck's end was silent for a while until he spoke, "You really want me there on your actual birthday?"

A resounding "Yes!" was her answer, laced with playful exasperation.

"You really want me to wait up with you for your birthday?"

Blair giggled. "Yes, Bass! Yes!" Her exasperation held amusement.

Chuck's jaw was frozen in disbelief while his heart pounded, as if fluttering butterflies were attempting to break free from the walls of his cage of a heart.

"So what do you say? You haven't made plans for that night, have you?"

He didn't know how he found his voice. "For you, I'd scrap my schedule in a heartbeat."

Blair bit her lip in an attempt to control the smile raging to stretch her cheeks. "So how about it, Bass? This is strictly RSVP."

"Yes," he was still astounded. "Yes, I will be there with you to wait up for the dawn of your birthday."

Chuck is utterly and completely still blown away by her proposal. He still can't believe that after all they'd been through, she'd want him there with her. He can't help a smile. "Should I bring Tiffany's or Cartier?" He goes back to their banter, because he can't handle the turn to intimacy of their previous exchange.

"Optional, but highly recommended and would be greatly appreciated."

He let out a laugh, because even with her unusual request, the present-loving Blair Waldorf he is familiar with is still present, evident by the sudden giddiness in her tone. "Are the pieces you've put on hold still on hold?"

"Don't bother, Bass. I didn't put any on hold. My mother already had a gift for me and since Nate's not my boyfriend anymore, he's not obligated to buy me a gift. I think he's skipping out on the gift-giving this year. So I... didn't have a reason to put any pieces on hold."

"Guess I'll have to surprise you then."

"Don't you always? I'd be more surprised if you didn't."

He smirked. "Guess I'll have to start looking."

"You have a week. But don't think that sending a piece of jewelry, no matter how costly, can arrive at my doorstep to replace your attendance. If you're not here on my birthday, Dorota might have to suffer my hissy fit."

"Wouldn't want that for dear Dorota. Serena isn't against my presence, is she?"

"No, she's won't be there."

Chuck suddenly felt irritation towards Serena. She probably bailed on spending Blair's birthday for a date with Brooklyn in Brooklyn.

"Then let me apologize for my stepsister's lack of sensible judgment then."

"Oh, you don't have to..." Blair cleared her throat, "You're... the only one invited."

Chuck couldn't reply immediately. He was certain he was blushing. "I'm... I'm the only one?"

"Well, yes," Blair bumbled a bit, embarrassment seeping through her tone. "But no ulterior sexual motives, I swear. I just... want to hang out. Like before. You didn't make it to my pre-birthday party, so... I thought we could just celebrate on my actual birthday."

Chuck shook his head to clear the haze in his mind as his heart quickened its pace. "I'd really like that. I'm looking forward to it."

"See you next week then. And presents should most likely be present too!"

Chuck merrily laughed out loud.

**§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§**

_Tanjoubi wa kanpai shite_

_onaji keshiki yakitsuketai_

_aishitanara aisaretaii kagayaku machi yuuki kudasai_

_I LOVE YOU kimini tsutaetanara_

_watashi kitto kawareru hazu..._

_**/I want to commemorate birthdays with you**_

_**I want to see the same landscapes**_

_**If I love, I want to be loved**_

_**The city that shines gives me a little courage**_

_**I love you, if I say it to you**_

_**With certainty, I will be able to move.../**_

-'_**Love Letter'**_ sung by BoA

**§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§~¤º¤º¤~§**

**_A/n:_** One of my fave chappies so far. XD XD XD Because I was so disappointed by Chuck's lack of presence in B's b-day.

At this point, I want to finish this ASAP so I can concentrate on my other fics. Hence the double update. I've never done that before… o.0


	11. I meant it

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN GG NOR THE SONG "1/3 no Junjou na Kanjou" AND ITS ENGLISH TRANSLATION.**

**_Author's notes:_** Yes, a drunk dial set during s02. Fudge, I'm in Chair withdrawal. I need to read Chair fics that have Chuck and Blair together, that does not branch after the EPIC FAILnale. I need to get my mind off that f**king shipwreck.

_**Three Words, Eight Letters  
**_Summary:  
A sentence list that consists of three words, eight letters pertaining to Chuck and Blair's relationship.

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: I meant it**_

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_dore dake kimi wo aishitara kono omoi todoku no darou  
__mitsumerareru to ienai kotoba ga chuu ni mau  
__hanarereba hanareru hodo itoshii hito da to kizuku  
motomereba motomeru hodo ni setsunai kyori wo kanjiteru my heart..._

_**/Whoever you love, these images will reach them, right?**_

_**Don't say you can find them, your words are dancing in space.**_

_**The further apart you go, the more it hurts the person you love**_

_**The more I chase them, the more my heart feels the cruel distance.../**_

-_1/3 no Junjou na Kanjou_ [1/3 of My True Feelings] sung by Siam Shade (Rurouni Kenshin ED)

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Chuck was just lounging in his bed that night, an arm over his eyes to stifle the headache that plagued his head. He was still bemoaning how a particular confrontation at a bar went. He did it because he thought it was for the best; for once he was going to be self-sacrificing, but the honorable deed didn't dull the remorse as he recalled her tearful face as clearly as the darkness behind his eyelids.

And the admission to Serena... finally getting it out in the open air, voicing that feeling and letting it be heard... It was like a little breath of air, before he sunk down to drown in unspoken feelings once more. Because even though he had finally said it, the words weren't heard by the one who deserved them, by the girl who asked for those words of love, the girl who asked to hear it.

His phone rang, interrupting his brooding. Chuck wanted to let voicemail take over, but decided that it might involve Serena and mess clean-up, so he chose to patronize the caller, though it bothered him.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw the name on the caller i.d. After their confrontation, he didn't think she'd ever initiate a conversation between them any time soon.

Swallowing an uncomfortable clog in his throat, Chuck gingerly answered the call.

"Blair...?"

"Bass...hole..." the lilt in her voice was an indication of inebriety, which he could be certain was what prompted her to give him a call.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Waldorf?" He wanted this to go over as smoothly as possible, no word plays. Direct to the point, straight down to business.

"You're... such a j~erk!" He heard the telltale sound of fist pounding on solid to accentuate the exclamation followed by the clinking of glass tumbling on wood.

"Crap. Look whatya made me do... I spilled my drink!"

"You're the one who drunk-dialed me."

"Ah, frick," Chuck felt himself grin at Blair's language. "I dun wanna clean."

"Just let Dorota wipe the spill."

"She's on a date," Blair slurred, and he could hear the loud thumping of her feet on what he surmised was her walking up the stairs. "Something is wrong, when she's _out_, en _I'm_ stuck at home!"

Chuck sighed, not out of exasperation, but of emotional fatigue. "Why did you call me?" truthfully, he didn't want to play the chase of beating around the bush nor the guessing game. He was too drained, like his heart had been squeezed out of every drop of blood it could contain.

He heard her flop on top of a mattress (he assumed she was now in her room), and then there was silence.

"Did you really mean it?" she finally voiced out.

Chuck felt his jaw tighten. He didn't want this conversation, just like he didn't want the last conversation. "You know already."

"I can't tell anymore if you're lying or not."

"You really want to know?" Chuck asked quietly.

"Tell me." She whispered.

Chuck saw this was an opportunity flashing in front of him. He could discredit his earlier lie; he could tell her now what he told Serena after she rushed off to cry in private. His mouth hung open, but for the life of him, he couldn't find his voice. And that one moment of hesitation brought back all the cons of the truth. It's just like that time, when they had that brief affair in junior year. The same things were holding him back; the same uncertainties were impeding him. Though he knew that Nate could never make Blair happy, Chuck didn't have faith in himself to make her happy, to give her what she wanted and needed, just like how he could never make his father proud or gain his old man's consideration. Chuck had no doubt that he loved her, but he was not naïve enough, though inexperienced in relationships, to think that love was enough, because it was not that simple. Plus, he was just repairing his friendship with Nate, and Blair was doing so well. They were better, more secure pros in his silence.

So, if he couldn't seal his lips, he'd spew untruths instead, to divert the wondering doubt from glancing behind and pursuing that elusive "what if".

"I meant what I said, Waldorf," he gulped soundlessly, prepared to con her. "It's about time I came out clean. Like I said, it's all just a game. I meant it."

Every lie stabbed through his heart.

"I also meant it when I said I love you." Even though her words were beginning to slur, he could not miss how her voice broke. "I meant it."

Chuck chose not to reply. There was only silence on both sides of the line, neither hanging up. Chuck wondered if Blair had fallen asleep, but he could not detect the somnolent breathing pattern that he often listened to whenever he would just watch her sleep, back when they were together, in secret or in the open.

"Why's it always a scene in a bar when you stomp on my heart?" she finally spoke, indicating her aware, albeit drunken, state. She giggled bitterly. "I know. It's so I'll hate hanging out in bars, right? You want me to associate bars with you dumping me... so I can avoid hooking up with guys." She chuckled drunkenly. "Ve~ry brilliant, Bass." he heard muffled clapping, and he guessed she disengaged the phone on her ear to clap before returning it back to its position against her face.

"But I..." She prolonged the self vowel to emphasize importance. "I will _not_!... Stop patronizing bars... _Serena_ will make sure."

"And I'll make sure Serena gets there to keep you company tonight." Chuck scribbled a command (_call Serena, Blair drunk and alone in Waldorf penthouse_) on paper and left his room to enter Eric's room. The youngest van der Woodsen was on his bed, laptop on lap and headphones covering his ears.

"I don't _nee~d_ a babysitter..." Blair sleepily answered back.

Chuck tapped Eric and shoved the paper to his stepbrother's face, who, with raised eyebrows, nodded and grabbed his phone as Chuck left the room.

"You still there, Waldorf?" Chuck softly asked as he did not hear her utter anything since the small trek from Eric's room to Chuck's own bedroom.

"Mmmm..."

"About the fireworks... I meant it."

"I thought you didn't love me..." Blair slurred back. Chuck remained silent, choosing not to comment and swallowed his words.

"I didn't mean... about Nate..." Chuck could tell Blair was falling asleep, as she was starting to eat her words, as if she was struggling to hold on to this conversation. "No sparks at all... just warm... familiar..."

Blair's breathing was deepening and evening out. "Love... you..." she mumbled incomprehensibly, and he wouldn't have caught her words if he hadn't been listening carefully. His mouth hung open; this was a lost chance, and she might not remember the next morning, but he still wanted to return those three words, eight letters she'd gifted him.

A click from her side ended the connection, and the dial tone buzzed in his ear. Chuck felt his heart drop, but nonetheless, he closed his eyes and pictured her. "I love you too..."

The drone of the dial tone drowned out his confession.

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_kowareru hodo aishitemo sanbun no ichi mo tsutawaranai  
junjou na kanjou wa karamawari I love you sae ienaideiru my heart..._

_**/Even if my love reaches the breaking point, 1/3 of it won't reach**_

_**My true feelings are just spinning on air, my heart isn't even saying "I love you".../**_

-1/3 no Junjou na Kanjou [1/3 True Feelings] sung by Siam Shade (Rurouni Kenshin ED)

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**_A/n:_** Writing this was heartbreaking. T~T I dunno why. Still lamenting the tragedy of Chair and its defilement by talentless smug asswipes of writers.

Next chappie might be a little late since I'm having a bit of difficulty writing it, along with the next installment of Watchet on Watch. T~T Hopefully I'll be able to update the latter next week with this. Hopefully. =_=


	12. I miss you

**DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN GG. I WILL NOT LAY CLAIM TO SHITTY WRITING.**_**  
**_

_**Author's notes:**_ So, just a bit of smutty-ish dish for you. It's been quite some time since I updated this one-shot collection, so here it is! Hope you all like it. ^_^

_**Three Words, Eight Letters**_  
Summary:  
A sentence list that consists of three words, eight letters pertaining to Chuck and Blair's relationship.

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: I miss you**_

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"Hey, beautiful. I miss you."

"_I_ miss _you_."

Two weeks ago, Chuck left for Macau, on a business trip for Bass Industries. For the first time, Chuck and Blair were going to be separated. On the night he informed her of his trip, she threw a fit.

'What the hell am I going to do for two weeks without sex?' Blair shouted at him as she stomped her foot in aggravation. She charged at him, pounding him with her fists when he laughed out loud at her complaint. Apparently, Blair was very serious. And here he thought she was mad because she was suspicious of him being tempted while he was another country away. Trust Blair Waldorf to be very self-centered at certain times and be more concerned about the fulfillment of her needs. Much like his own concern at the time as well.

Chuck could just imagine her pouting, her red plump lips, the lower lip jutting out. With the drawl in her voice, he guessed she had just woken up.

"You miss me?"

"Yes. I miss you. In more ways than one. And I'm more frustrated now!" Blair hissed in ire. "I couldn't bring Chuck Junior with me to France."

In lieu of Blair's complaint, Chuck had purchased a purple dildo for her. It was about the size of his package, with his initials CB printed at the tip. Flushing in embarrassed rage, Blair chucked the dildo at his head and locked herself in the bathroom, screaming at how heinous he was. But then later on, Blair did enjoy the inclusion of a "third party" during their make-up sex. Chuck Junior, the name she gave the dildo, was now hidden deep within her closet in a metal box with a lock. It was the best she could do since she didn't have her own personal safe like Chuck.

"So what do you want me to do about that?" Chuck drawled in the phone.

Blair bit her lip. "Chuck Bass… you don't know what to do when your girlfriend is sexually frustrated?"

Chuck recognized the subtler coyness in her question. This made him smirk, and he felt a rush of pleasure down to his groin. "I'd kiss her first, suck the breath out of her. And while we're at it, my fingers will be dancing at the hem of her panty before I push it aside to slip my fingers into her wet heat."

Blair groaned as her hand found its way inside her La Perla. She shifted on her side, her back to the door. She licked her lips as she let out a sigh, tingles of pleasure dancing through her skin, her nipples hardening.

"Yeah?"

"And then I'd lower my head so I can lick her pert, pink nipples."

Blair's hand went up her body to cup her breast. "Mmmm… fuck…"

Suddenly, Blair gasped as she felt a hot breath on her ear and an arm hold her down to the bed.

"You should really lock your door if you don't want your Daddy to know that his Blair bear is a very, _very_ naughty girl."

Blair turned her head to come face to face with Chuck, holding his cellphone on his ear with his free hand.

"What-" Blair felt like her breath lagged due to shock. "Chuck... what… you're here?"

"You like your surprise? Although I would've preferred to present myself in my birthday suit with a bowtie and nothing else. But for the sake of your fathers, I chose to have a semblance of decency." Chuck took a seat by her bedside.

Blair fully grinned, tangling her fingers with the hairs on his nape and pulling him closer until his lips hovered over hers. "That's okay. I like unwrapping my presents."

A slow, sensuous press of lips and tangle of tongues ensued.

"You know," Chuck raised an eyebrow as he smirked mischievously when he pulled back to his sitting position before she pulled him down so his body could rest on top of hers. "Your father is away for the whole morning."

Blair mirrored his impish expression, catching up on the unspoken suggestion. "Oh? Where is Daddy?" she asked as she bit her lower lip in a naively coquettish expression while climbing on his lap.

"Out meeting with a client interested in purchasing wine." Chuck murmured against Blair lips hovering above his. He opened his mouth when she finally descended her lips upon his, their tongues in a delicious tangle with each other. Chuck pulled away first, both panting already as Blair's hands hurriedly reached to undo his pants while he lifted the hem of her negligée.

"And Roman is out walking around the estate. Enjoying the fresh air."

Finally releasing the button and unzipping him, Blair raised her arms, allowing Chuck to slip off the silk covering her body. His lips immediately sucked on her pulse point as if to savor the pumping to be felt underneath the skin, while Blair wrapped her arms around his neck to anchor her position.

"Let's get one round down in record time before we lock the door," Blair groaned against his ear as she grinded against his bulge.

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_**A/n:**_ Finally after forever, I've updated this fic. Thanks for all those who have gone to give their own 3w8L combinations. I already have my own list, but I'll try to use some of your suggestions. ^_^

Nyweyz, I haven't been watching GG since the latter half of S03, but I do watch the Chair clips. I'm so fucking pissed at the writers and the direction that they're going. The real Blair Waldorf would be so disgusted at herself right now and would disinfect herself with bleach. All I can say is, no shitass vows can ever top Chuck's wedding speech!


	13. Be with me

_**Author's notes:**_ It's been so long since I've updated this, and just so people won't be confused, this doesn't follow the current storyline of the show. Think of this as following the happy days of Chair in the 1st half of S03 since it was during that time that I conceptualized this OS collection and I didn't know the writers would fuck up SO FUCKING MUCH. *cough*dair*cough*

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: Be with me**_

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Blair woke up and smiled. She knew how special today was. This was one of their personal anniversaries, and by far one of their most special. Besides the limo anniversary that they would celebrate in private before her birthday, the I-love-you-too anniversary was one of their greatest milestones. And it happened to be today.

Usually, Chuck would shower her with gifts, and they would go on a retreat where they would be unreachable. At that day, the world existed only for them and they were the only ones to exist in it. They blocked out reality to escape within a paradise of their own choosing. At that time, they would be unreachable, but they wouldn't just disappear without a trace. They would leave prior notification to those who needed to be informed and handle whatever needed to be handled so they would have no worries while they were on leave.

This time, Chuck had whisked them away for a week in a tropical setting. He had rented a house with a private beach at the backyard. They had been here since two days ago, and the only time they had left the room was to eat or to enjoy the sun, sand and waves for a bit of kinky fun.

Blair thought they would be celebrating this day in bed, making love. The best kind of celebration they could come up with, a nightly ritual that extended through the day, yet they never tired of, no matter how frequent they imbibed in it. It could never be boring; _they_ could never be boring.

And Blair knew she could look forward to the next seventy years of her life with that.

But today, Chuck seemed to have had something planned. Blair awoke to a bouquet of peonies on Chuck's pillow with a simple but beautiful note:

_'Good morning, I love you too. Freshen up, Beautiful. We're having brunch outside. The where is a surprise. Always, C'_

Blair giggled in delight as she picked up the bouquet and held it up to her nose. The beautiful light pink of the petals was the same as the ones he was holding back then when he was leaning on a limo, waiting for her as he cradled several gift boxes in his arms as well.

Eagerly getting out of bed, Blair, nude, made her way towards the bathroom where she could hear the water running. With a mischievous smirk on her face, she decided to crash Chuck's shower time and have a bit of adult fun before they got ready for brunch.

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"_Are_ we there yet?" Impatience colored Blair's tone, punctuated by an exasperated sigh. "If we do not get to wherever you're taking me anytime soon so I can get this blindfold off me, my eye make-up will be ruined! And I swear, Bass, it will definitely make my mood sour this early in the day that is _supposed_ to be a special day."

Chuck merely let out an amused chuckle. He knew Blair was just terribly itching to know the surprise he had planned for her, hence the verbal abuse. It just so happened that the length of time that Blair had been blindfolded had gone on long enough for her, well, past the point of tolerance (which was pretty short compared to most people). Anyway, Chuck took no offense, since he knew she meant no offense; if anything, he liked the spitfire that she was.

"I know your patience has worn off about now, but it shall be rewarded," Chuck then untied the knot behind Blair's head and then carefully lifted off the blindfold to finally reveal the sight of their brunch date.

"Oh my… Chuck! This is beautiful!" Blair gasped in surpass and appreciation as she took in their surroundings. They were in an enclosed garden, a table for two set in a gazebo near the pond. But what really drew Blair's wonderment were the numerous butterflies of varying colors and patterns fluttering all around them.

Chuck smiled at seeing the joyful amazement in Blair's brown eyes. Blair was transfixed, with her hands on her chest and mouth hanging open. He had rendered Blair Waldorf, the one who had a comment on everything, speechless with awe, and that was a great feat. Based on Blair's expression, Chuck had no doubt she loved the setting. He had started the preparations months ago, from brainstorming to looking for the perfect location, paying an absurd amount for the zoo administration to close the place this one day to give the couple privacy, to having the gazebo personally made by an internationally-acclaimed artist specializing on wood carvings. Chuck was glad all the hard work paid off for a moment of Blair Waldorf's speechlessness.

"We're at a butterfly zoo," Chuck explained. "The butterflies here are protected and well taken care of, so you can't go around murdering them," Chuck said with a dash of smirk to his brunette girlfriend.

Blair smile and turned to wrap her arms around Chuck's neck. "I wouldn't dream of it and I couldn't even if I wanted to," She pressed her lips on his for a moment, a chaste kiss that lasted a second longer.

When they parted, both Chuck and Blair were left with smiles on their lips. Wordlessly, Chuck wrapped an arm around Blair's waist and led her to the gazebo where their brunch was already set up. Like the gentleman he can be at times, Chuck pulled out Blair's chair. But instead of taking her seat, Blair remained standing by the side.

"Why don't we go for a stroll first?" Blair turned to Chuck and took his hand, pulling him away from the seat he was holding out for her. "I want to see all the butterflies."

Chuck couldn't resist Blair's wide, wondrous smile. He let her lead him out of the gazebo, and she linked her arm with his as they took to leisurely walking in silence, watching the multitude of fluttering butterflies causing a hailstorm of colors all around them, not unlike leaves falling in autumn.

They were intently walking, enjoying the scenery as they held hands, when Chuck suddenly and quite adeptly maneuvered Blair around and capture her lips. Blair gasped in surprise at the sudden change in movement, but eased into Chuck's kiss.

And for a while, Chuck and Blair indulged in kissing. Surrounded by a variety of flowers blooming and the fluttering butterflies, how could they not? By the time they parted, Blair was sure a pair of butterfly wings were beating against her ribcage.

Chuck leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "This day will always be beautiful." He paused and they were silent for a while, just savoring their proximity and the peace of the moment. "Do you remember the gifts I gave you when I first told you I love you?"

"Of course. How can I? I'd be insulted if you thought I'd forgotten." Blair smiled and sighed dreamily as she pulled her head away from him. She looked up at the butterflies all around them, a nostalgic mist in her eyes. "A bouquet of peonies, macaroons from Pierre Hermes, faulke stockings from Germany…"

"Because everywhere I went, you caught up with me." Chuck smiled, he had no doubt that her memory of that day was as clear as his. "I told you that those gifts of mine were things that I encountered in my trip that reminded me of you. But the peonies, the stockings, the macaroons… these weren't all there was that reminded me of you. What I didn't tell you then was that there's this one thing that really made me go back to you to tell you those three words, eight letters."

Blair's eyebrows creased. This is the first time she's heard about this. Just when she thought she knew everything there is, apparently, he was holding back some minute detail.

"So, there I was in Europe, thoughts of you right on my tails no matter where I went, and then I came across this particular store, where I saw this certain item on display, and I knew, right then and there, that I had to come back to New York to see you, and tell you how I felt."

"So what was that store?" Blair was definitely curious.

"I happened to walk by Harry Winston."

Blair sucked in a breath. Much like other women, she loved jewelry. Chuck knew as much, and gave her gifts ranging from earrings to bracelets to necklaces, from renowned jewelers such as Cartier or Tiffany's to name a few. But come to think of it, throughout their relationship, Chuck had never gifted her anything from Harry Winston. The thought never occurred to her, except now. She felt the fluttering start up.

"So, there I was, standing on the sidewalk, in the front window display staring at it, and then I had a flash in my mind of you and me."

Blair's smile widened as she felt her heartbeat begin to drum louder. "So what was that flash, Bass?"

Chuck smiled at her as he held her hands in his. "The future."

Blair's breath caught in her throat and she could register her heartbeat singing and butterfly wings swirling inside her, caught in a whirlwind of happiness.

Chuck let go of Blair's hand and reached inside his pocket, retrieving a black velvet case. he opened it to show her the most gorgeous diamond ring. "My eye caught the sight of an engagement ring, and I could see you and me together throughout the years, and it felt _real_ for me. It seemed that future was _possible _for me."

He took out the diamond ring and placed the case back to his pocket. He held up the ring with his thumb and forefinger. "I saw us together. I saw you with the ring on your finger. I saw us with a family. I saw us happy."

Blair wasn't aware as tears of happiness fell down her cheeks.

"I saw us disagreeing about several things, like the flowers and the reception area, and the baby name for our little girl, but I never doubted that we loved each other. The peonies, the macaroons, the stockings… they reminded me of you, but the ring showed me the promise of a beautiful future if I was brave enough to risk telling you how I truly felt: that I loved you too." Chuck was smiling widely; happiness made his hazel eyes more breathtaking than ever. "I did and it was the best thing I'd ever done in my life. It was all that I imagined and more. Now I've come to collect on the future that the ring promised."

Then he went down on one knee, and Blair swore her heart suddenly started banging on her chest, overflowing with love and joy and every beautiful emotion she couldn't name.

"Marry me, Blair."

Her breath caught in her throat as butterflies fluttered in a frenzy, as if spurring the palpitations of her heart, when Chuck procured a ring from his pocket and knelt down in front of her, taking her left hand and laying a kiss upon it.

When his lips left her knuckles, he did not glance up yet. Because he was busy slipping a ring into her left ring finger before looking straight into her eyes, through her soul, as he exposed his heart on his sleeve. "Three words, eight letters."

If her heart were a cocoon, this was the moment when it unfurled its butterfly wings.

Chuck took a deep breath, as if he was taking a plunge, a risk. "Be with me. Say yes and I'm yours."

She didn't have to think. There was only one answer.

Blair nodded as her lips stretched into a wide smile, tears falling from her eyes as the happiness of the moment overwhelmed her so much, it seemed all the pain, the hurt, the sorrow, and the regrets of the past were being pushed out of her through her tears to make room for joy. Unable to find her voice, Blair nodded her head as she dropped on her knees in front of Chuck and pressed her lips against his.

"Yes! I'm yours too. Forever."

Chuck let out a shaky, albeit happy laugh, as if he had been holding his breath the entire time. They were both laughing and crying in sheer happiness as Blair held out her left hand and Chuck slipped the ring on her fourth finger.

Her Harry Winston engagement ring was not just a plain band with a gorgeous diamond. Inside the band, Chuck showed the etched butterflies. It had always been their symbol of love.

And it has never stopped fluttering.

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_**A/n:**_ Ok, I know. This somewhat recycles bits of my one-shot, "Two Words, Seven Letters". But heck, this set of 3w8L demanded a proposal scene, and I just found the perfect Chair proposal scene. Anyway, the idea of Chuck seeing the HW ring (in spite of the faulke stockings, macaroons) was what inspired him to say "I love you too" was something that had been on my mind since way back. I wanted to write it as a one-shot, but never had the time/energy/idea on how to get it into a full story. And then, one night, the idea came back to me, and then I thought that idea would be a great fit to include in this particular chapter which I'd been absolutely stumped on! So voila! Finally finished this chapter and updated! XD XD XD

Now, fellow Chair fans, let's celebrate CB endgame in the fanficdom.


	14. What is it

**_Author's note:_** All is fluffiness in the CB fandom. After the episodes of cringing torture we had to endure from S05 (*caugh*dair*cough*) our fandom has all taken a fluffy turn down the yellow brick road of happiness. God knows there's no such thing as too much Chair fluff.

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: What is it**_

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When he entered their shared penthouse, he immediately knew something was wrong judging by the sight he found his girlfriend in as he found her in their bathroom.

Blair Waldorf had on an apron and latex gloves, a sponge in one hand. She was bent over the tub, scrubbing the porcelain. At a corner, neatly arranged, was what he recognized as the cleaning kit (consisting of various cleaning agents, detergents, cloths and sponges for scrubbing and wiping, etc...) for bathroom cleaning which the maid service had during their work hours.

For a while, Chuck just stared disbelievingly at her, astonished to find her _cleaning_, and damn, her ass looked firm and fine from his position. Blair was too distracted and concentrated on scrubbing some nonexistent taint on the impeccable white of the tub's porcelain that she did not notice his presence until she had to turn to soak the sponge in a bucket filled with suds.

She jumped a bit, startled to see him standing by the door of the bathroom. "Chuck!" She breathed deeply to compose herself and calm the nervous erratic beat of her heart as she held on to the edge of the tub. "God, you Basshole," her tone was soft with no irritation lacing her jab. "You scared me."

"Not as much as the sight of Blair Waldorf getting down and dirty _cleaning_ made me doubt my sanity. I thought I just stepped into an alternate universe with the 'Maid in Manhattan' plotline."

She glared as she walked past him, the cleaning kit in hand. "When did you arrive?"

"A couple of minutes ago."

"And you were just standing there staring at me?" She scoffed, avoiding his eyes. "That is disturbing, by the way."

"At least I didn't pound my head on the wall as Nate would've done or accused you of being an alien inhabiting her best friend's skin as Serena might've reacted. And besides," he smirked as his eyes went up and down her body, "I had a great view of your ass."

"Ugh," Blair rolled her eyes as she took a duster in her hand after removing her cleaning gloves, "You're heinous."

"But you also love that about me." He followed her to the living room where she started dusting some of their furniture.

"So, is this some sort of role play? Because you look pretty kinky, by the way."

Blair straightened and immediately turned to him with a grimace. "Eww! Bass, you're gross! Can you stop thinking below your belt for a minute?"

Another confirmation of his suspicion. His lewd comments, when made in private, always made her coquettish and playful, turning her into a seasoned seductress, and he would always be drawn like a sailor to a siren's song. But this time, she was clearly bothered by something to actually resort to _cleaning_ as a distraction. And she was keeping it from him, thus her attempts to push him away.

Chuck sighed. "All right. What is it?"

"Care to elaborate what 'it' is?" Blair countered, avoiding confrontation, keeping herself busy with her task.

He sighed again, as he knew she was dodging the question. "You're keeping something from me, and it's bothering you. What is it?"

Damn, Blair thought. She cursed how he knew her so well. She would've thought he could read her mind if he wasn't trying to pry 'it' out of her.

But Blair chose evasion. "What makes you think something is wrong?"

"You're jittery, your eyes are avoiding me, your intonation is higher than usual, you' re fidgeting in a way that you're trying to keep your hands perpetually busy so you'll have reason to not look at me, and you're cleaning with no reason. Well, not really without reason."

"Well your assumption is wrong, Bass!" Blair answered back as she put distance between them by moving towards a wall with portraits and straightening the frames. "Stop being so paranoid. What is so wrong with tidying up this place a bit, hmm? Apparently, you need to up your cleaning crew because this place isn't as _tidy_ as you may think!"

Chuck sighed and, grasping her upper arms, turned her around to face him. She avoided his gaze by averting her sight upwards and sidewards, but he was having none of it. He lifted her chin. "Look at me." She did, widening her eyes and jutting her chin in a nonverbal expression of an irate "what".

"You can tell me. You can _trust_ me. What is it?"

Blair's eyes watered and her lower lip trembled. "Well, I..." Blair's open mouth was suspended for a moment. "I can't." She turned away and briskly walked towards the guestroom.

Chuck raised his head to the heavens (more like to the ceiling of his penthouse) and sighed in exasperation, a prayer for patience. He followed Blair to the guestroom where Nate usually crashed in. She was taking out the pillowcases.

"The maids are responsible for changing the sheets, Blair."

She still avoided eye contact, proceeding with stripping the pillows of their covers. "Well they need to change this! Apparently your cleaning staff is incompetent! These sheets are old and stuffy! They need to be changed!"

"They were changed yesterday."

Blair paused in her movements before turning to him with a glare and stomping out of the guestroom, leaving behind the bare pillows and its cases on the floor. He followed her into the living room, here she was picking up the discarded feather duster.

"Can't I clean in peace?" Blair hissed through her teeth.

"Is this pre-graduation jitters?" He asked. Blair was graduating in two months and he thought maybe she was nervous. But he was pretty sure Blair had nothing to worry about, as it was pretty clear she would be graduating as magna cum laude with her current standing.

"No! I told you this is nothing. _I'm just cleaning_ for the sake of cleaning. Now leave me alone and do some paperwork or something. I can't be bothered."

Chuck rolled his eyes in annoyance. He knew she was not the cleaning type. She usually left that to Dorota or the help. "Look, will you just tell me what's bothering you? I can assure you I _will_ find out. Do you want me to have to find out through my P.I. or are you just going to tell me?"

Blair spluttered, looking terrified and nervous. "What, I... I... I told you _I can't_!"

Blair's vulnerable expression was starting to unnerve him. What could be so horrible that she would be hesitant to come to him? He was going to have to play hardball.

"I'm going to find out one way or another, sooner or later, so just tell me before I have to resort to extrajudicial means. I'm going to ask again: What is it?"

They both stared at each other for a while, Chuck waiting for an explanation and Blair waiting for courage to kick in. She shook her head and looked down. "I'm afraid."

Chuck was now deeply concerned. What could possibly frighten his headstrong girlfriend? "Is someone threatening you?" Chuck's voice rose; he was getting worked up from the thought that Blair might be in danger.

Blair shook her head, dispelling his fear. He sighed, but his apprehension could not be placated as of yet. "Who are you afraid of then?"

Blair could not look at his face. "You." she said in a low tone that Chuck barely caught.

He frowned in confusion and bewilderment. "Of me? Why would you be afraid of me?"

"Because!" Blair squeezed her eyes shut and lifted her face, taking a few shallow breaths before finding the nerve to finally speak. "Because… I'm..."

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**_A/n:_** NyahahahaXD~! Cliffhanger~! Bet you can complete that last sentence. The following chappies will follow this one. That's all I'm saying. XD XD XD Btw, I discovered two sets of 3w8L here accidentally, though I don't know if I'll use them. Praise for the one who spots it! HahaXD


	15. It can't be

**_Author's notes:_** This is posted late, but this chapter is dedicated to CB's limoversary! XD XD XD

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: It can't be**_

**§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§**

It was too bad that Dorota was out on an errand or he would've found a much easier way to get past the lock on the bedroom door. Dorota would've handed him a key to aid in hastening the resolving of her ward's issues with current boyfriend. The new help simply wasn't as helpful (must've scampered and went into hiding the moment Blair arrived in rage and frustration).

"Come on, Blair. Open the door."

"Go away, Basshole!" Her shout was muffled by the wooden barrier of her door, but he could clearly discern her words.

"You're upset. Let's talk about this." He wanted to attribute her emotional overdrive to the hormones, but it wasn't as if his stupefied stupor and the most idiotic statement that came out of his mouth after her declaration did not fuel the flames for her outburst at the moment.

"No!"

Upset was a degrading understatement.

"You're being absurd."

"Absurd? _Absurd_?" She shrieked out of frustration. "I tell my fiance I'm pregnant, and his reply is "it can't be"! I drop the pregnancy bomb and your reaction is something close to denial!" Her voice broke at the end, and he could clearly hear the sobs that followed.

Chuck breathed evenly through his nose before pounding in short and successive knocks. He was determined to irk her enough to make her come out and attempt to push him down the stairs if only to stop the racket he was creating. "Open the door and face me, Blair!"

"Why don't you just hop on a plane to Thailand with a one-way ticket!"

"I'm not leaving!"

"Don't waste your time waiting because I'm not coming out of this bedroom anytime soon for the next nine months SO GO AWAY!"

"You're not giving birth in your room, Blair! You're going to be in a hospital, attended by the best doctors of this country! Of this world!"

There was no way he was going to let anything endanger Blair, especially now that she was in a very delicate state. Chuck grabbed the knob and furiously jiggled it, but it was locked.

In desperation, Chuck rammed his side on the door, determined to force open the door even if he had to act like a bull charging towards red.

"Don't you DARE break my door!"

Chuck bit back a groan as his shoulder ached from the slamming contact with the hardwood. "Fine!" He retorted. Who was he kidding? He never did manual labor, except when it came to pleasuring Blair. Aside from that, he never lifted a finger except if it was to sign a contract. He whipped out his cell phone and furiously typed a text message to Dorota. Why didn't he think of this before?

Not a moment too soon, Chuck received a reply from Blair's trusty maid. She gave away the hideout of the spare keys Eleanor kept in her bedroom. He quickly retrieved the set of keys bundled together in a key chain and hurriedly tried which one fit in the lock on the knob. When he slipped the correct key in, he quickly unlocked the door and entered unbidden, triumphant at getting past the obstacle and finally coming face to face with Blair who was tucked away underneath her bedcovers.

At the sound of the lock turning, Blair raised her head from the pillow with a gasp as she saw the Basshole manage to open her bedroom door.

"What the hell are you doing here?! I told you to go away and leave me alone!"

When Blair did not hear anything from the other side of her door, she knew that would be her last interaction with Chuck. The desolation that came with the silence prompted more tears and fears as she climbed in bed and hid underneath the comforters, wanting to hide from the world just a bit longer before calling Serena for sympathy and comfort regarding the brunette's dilemma of being a single mother. And she also wished Dorota would hurry up and return from grocery shopping because Blair needed her to make some comfort food.

But upon seeing Chuck in her room, Blair felt her hopes soar at seeing his persistence. But that only lasted an incredulous second before the rage and frustration and such other emotions (courtesy of hormones amplifying her tempestuous nature) kicked in.

"Go away, you Motherchucking Basshole!" Blair grabbed the nearest solid thing to her (her cellphone) and threw it with all her might, aiming at Chuck.

For some wicked strain of bad (or good, both worked in this case) luck, Blair's aim was straight on and hit the bull's eye as she had intended. Chuck reflexes weren't fast enough to duck, and her cellphone hit him squarely on the forehead.

Blair's hands flew to cover her mouth agape in shock and horror at what she had done when she saw Chuck fall to the floor after taking the hit.

"Oh my god!" Blair tearfully wailed as she jumped off the bed and rushed to her groaning fiance prostrate on the ground.

"Chuck! Can you hear me?!" Blair held his face steadily in between her hands, forcing him to look at her. But his gaze was off, and his head was weak and wobbly.

At that point, Chuck wasn't totally aware of what was happening around him. The hit had shaken him out of a hold on himself and his sensibilities, as well as his motor capacities. Right now, his sight was blurry and shaky, and that was besides a certain focal point of pain on his forehead.

"Chuck?! Chuck!" Blair's eyes filled with tears again as she held him in her arms.

Chuck was dizzy, his mind still reeling from the blow. He wasn't aware of how he ended up at the hospital, but he did. Blair was by his side, crying at the doctor. Apparently, he had been confused as a duck the whole time though he had not lost consciousness, only his grasp of reality and sanity due to a brief loss of short-term memory. Chuck had suffered a concussion, as the doctor diagnosed, and a CT scan (insisted upon by a very intimidating and imposing girlfriend) did not show any bleeding. But still Blair seemed inconsolable as she once again insisted (more like threateningly demanded from the doctor) that Chuck be hospitalized in his own private room for a whole night just in case.

When Chuck had come to his senses, Blair was still bawling, apologizing profusely as she squeezed him hard enough for him to think that she really was trying to kill him for good by suffocation.

"Are you okay?" Chuck asked when Blair finally pulled away. He held her face and wiped away her tears.

Blair sniffled. "I should be the one asking you that," she spoke guiltily as she saw the bruise beginning to form on his forehead. In time, at least it would be purple, his favorite color. She stroked his hair, more as a comfort for herself.

"Come here," Chuck said as he took her hand and slightly pulled on it to urge her to get on the hospital bed with him. Chuck scooted over as much as he could to give Blair room in the small hospital bed. Thankfully, they fit. With Chuck's arm underneath her neck and encircling her, Blair comfortably laid her head on his pillow, her face pressed upon the crook of his neck. Blair then laid her hand on Chuck's chest, letting herself ease into their position in the small space the bed provided.

They remained silent, Blair with her eyes closed though not sleeping, and Chuck lowly humming 'Moon River' while caressing Blair's upper arm.

"Tomorrow, as soon as I'm discharged, we're going to have an appointment with Dr. Carla Brown. Apparently she's the best OB/GYN here in New York."

"Is that according to your P.I.?" Blair asked as she felt a smile creep in her face.

Chuck let out a laugh. "Yes. Mike actually managed to get us scheduled at ten."

"Tomorrow is Saturday. We have breakfast in bed. You don't have something to do, you have _someone_, and that's me," Chuck patted her arm. "We'll just have a change of plans in spending this particular Saturday morning."

A wave of silence engulfed them once again as the each took the time to process the information, and what it would mean for their future.

After a while, it was Blair who finally broke out of her musing. "Chuck, I'm scared." Her voice was small and vulnerable.

Chuck pulled her tighter to his side. "I am too. But I know we'll be together in this, so I'm not too worried."

Blair smiled, and the raging fears and doubts and insecurities she'd been harboring in her chest were suddenly quieted. It wasn't completely alleviated into nonexistence, but when it had been a thunderous storm inside her before, it was now a drizzle with a possible rainbow up ahead.

"I'll take care of us," Chuck whispered to her, a staunch promise, as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. In loving Blair, he learned to not only take care of himself, but also of the people he loved. Their baby was one other person he would love who would love him too, just like Blair.

Blair felt herself truly relax, which she hadn't been able to ever since she took the pregnancy test. How foolish of her to forget that though they could face whatever challenges presented to them, they were stronger together. They were together in this. Of course they were. Their baby was the both of them, who would be with her, just as Chuck would be.

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**_A/n:_** So the Chair baby saga begins. HahaXD Hope you readers leave a review~! ^0


	16. Look at me

_**Author's notes:**_ Can I just say, I cannot get over watching the CB scenes in the finale. I just find myself bawling at their happy ending! Both the meaningful and senseless pain CB I've gone through from shipping them made the endgame happiness much more meaningful and striking to the heart&soul. I will miss CB, my first ever ship. ;_;

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: Look at me**_

**§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§¤º¤º¤§**

Standing in front of their full-length mirror, Blair inspected herself. She critically gazed at her figure. At four months, she was starting to show. The normally flat planes of her stomach now had a slight curvature. Her clothes were becoming tight, and she had refrained from looking at the weighing scale, afraid of the number she'd see if she stepped on it.

She worried about how this body change of hers would affect her relationship with Chuck. Would her belly get in the way of making love? Would Chuck still prefer to make love to her even with a beach ball for a belly? Would this physical change coming due to pregnancy turn him off and drive him away? Would he find her unattractive?

And suddenly, it was as if a fog had lifted from her reflection, clearing her sight in detecting her bloated face, her swollen ankles, her granny arms… her insecurity began to boil, and that negativity that she thought she'd gotten rid of back in high school began to resurface. Blair could do nothing except to raise her hands to her face, blocking her vision in an attempt to quell the rise of her insecurity.

Just as her mind was battling those unsettling thoughts behind the darkness of her closed eyelids, she was pulled out of it as she slightly jumped in surprise, a gasp eliciting from her mouth, as she felt arms surround her waist and lips pressing on her shoulder.

She turned her head to the side quickly, and her eyes connected with Chuck's mahogany ones. Worry and concern were clear in his beautiful eyes.

She managed a weak smile. "Hey," she murmured as she lifted a hand to his cheek.

"What's wrong, Blair?"

Not 'are you alright', because Chuck knew that she wasn't. Something was troubling her, putting her down, and he wanted to know what it was. Well, he had a hunch, a clue, because he knew her as well as he knew himself, and sometimes even better, but he wanted her to tell him, to confess it in her own tongue so she wouldn't hide in denial like she would sometimes do if he were to point out the problem first.

Blair is silent for a moment, thinking of just shaking her head and dismissing Chuck's line of thinking. But then again, she thinks, this is Chuck. With how much he knows her, she can't really get anything past him. So Blair takes a deep breath before saying, "I'm bloated, Chuck."

"No, you're pregnant."

"Ugh. Chuck, you don't understand. Look at me!" Blair cried out as she stepped out of Chuck's embrace and turned to face him, hands spread at her sides as if to display her point.

Chuck looked her up and down. "You're sixteen weeks pregnant."

"Look at me!" Blair's ice rose. "I'm… I'm hideous, my body is out of shape, and don't even get me started on my ankles!" She stomped her foot and looked up, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

"Look at me," Chuck lifted her chin up with a finger so she would face him. "You're beautiful, and you've always been the most beautiful person I've ever known. And I don't know your secret, or how you do it, but everyday, you become more beautiful than yesterday, and I find myself feeling like I'm falling in love all over again and at the same time, loving you more with each day."

Blair could only stay silent as she listened to Chuck's words. She gazed into his chocolate eyes, and she could see through it to his heart to see true sincerity within, and something more powerful: Love. True love.

The love was always there in his eyes. It never went away, even when he was angry or exasperated at her. Even when she had done or said something that hurt him. His eyes always looked at her with love. Back then, she was too blinded to see it, but now, older and wiser and stronger, she was able to detect the streak of love always present in his eyes whenever he gazed at her; the love was always there even when she wasn't looking at him.

Then, a mischievous sparkle suddenly lit up in Chuck's eyes as his lips quirked up in his signature smirk. "You do know you're the only pregnant woman I'd fuck and I've ever fucked, right?"

Blair let out a slight laugh, but she held it back and smacked him lightly on the chest, though her lips were curved in a smile. "This isn't funny!"

Chuck raised an eyebrow, his smirk still in place. "I was going for being honest." He then looked seriously at her. "The love the effect pregnancy has had on your breasts," His eyes dropped to Blair's ample chest for a short while with eyebrows raised in admiration. "And I love your amped libido these days. It's giving me a run for my money."

Blair's jaw dropped. She was torn between taking it as a compliment or a snarky comment. But before she could react, Chuck turned her around so she could face her reflection as he stood behind her, running his hands over her arms.

"I love your pregnancy glow. It really turns me on, and I'm not sorry admitting it. And your newest accessory, the bump?" He ran his hands over her protruding belly where their child was nestled within, and Blair couldn't help but lay her hands over his own. A small smile graced Chuck's lips as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "I can't wait to feel our baby kick."

Blair twisted her head to the side so she could face Chuck, who had also turned his head to her. The sincerity in his eyes softened her and affirmed his declarations.

Chuck rested his forehead to hers. "You've made me so happy. I never thought I would be."

The butterflies were roused, seeming beating against her ribcage. She smiled, content as she closed her eyes to feel the heat of their proximity. "So I make you happy?"

"So very happy," then his signature mischievous smirk appeared in a flash before he added, "and horny, as well."

He got another giggle out of her as she lightly elbowed him. "And if that's not enough to convince you, then you should know that I got home from work early today for pre-dinner sexy time," Chuck captured Blair's lips in a deep-searing kiss that certainly caused her desire to boil, "with my sexy, pregnant wife." Chuck's hands start to caress her sides, enticing Blair. He pressed her to his front, letting her feel his manhood already stirring.

Blair's eyes closed as she moaned in pleasure when Chuck started to kiss her neck while his hands gently cupped her sensitive breasts. "You're such an egotistical Basstard."

Chuck only chuckled, tickling the tiny hairs on her nape. "If my words don't convince you, then let me show you with actions," he spoke seductively into her ear as he pulled her to their kingsized bed.

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_**A/n:**_ The finale… let me just say that having your OTP literally ride into happily ever after is the best! Then all the lies from the producers/writers, all the pain from shipping, HAS BEEN FOR SOMETHING!


	17. Go and die

_**Author's notes:**_ Credits for this set of 3w8L goes to my anon reviewer Jessie, who thought up of this one and pointed it out in a past review. I wasn't sure if I was going to incorporate this at first because I had no idea how to use it, but I had a bout of inspiration on how to utilize it into a one-shot, so here it is. -^o^- I hope you get to read this, Jessie. I dedicate this chappie to you~ XD XD XD

I was in such a rush to post this, so I didn't thoroughly edit. Oh well. YOLO. LoLXD

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_**Three Words, Eight Letters: Go and die**_

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"Blair—"

"Go and die!" Blair cut him off with a screech. "I am furious at you, Bass! Don't come near me or I'll cut your precious bow ties into confetti and scatter them all over Brooklyn, you hear me?!" She stomped off to head up the stairs, making sure to make as much noise on the floor as her bare feet could make to add a sound effect to accentuate her wrath. It was further punctuated by the loud slamming of a door, presumably their bedroom.

Chuck sighed. He knew he'd face her fury after what he'd done. But it was for the best, for her and the baby and his sanity. If she hadn't been so stubborn and just taken his suggestion, he wouldn't have had to go behind her back and result to underhanded measures. Chuck took a moment to ponder if his next move should be to follow after her or give her some time to cool off. It didn't take long for him to realize that giving her time to cool off might backfire and only help to feed the fire of her fury, which could result in her brainstorming and enacting her retaliation (oh god, she'd already threatened his bow ties). He then made his way to their bedroom door.

"Blair," Chuck called out, a hand on the wood of the door.

No answer. So it was the cold shoulder then. Chuck just took it as a sign that she was listening.

"I told you, they are at a safe location. I will have them transported back to you a month after giving birth."

"I want them NOW!" Blair screeched from the room.

"You're not even in labor yet."

He heard a long shriek. "I cannot believe you!"

"Blair!" Chuck took to knocking once more. "Will you please open this door?"

"Go away! Don't even think of coming back without my stolen shoes!"

Chuck let out an exasperated sigh.

The only indication he had that told him that he wasn't in as much trouble as she let on was the fact that she hadn't threatened to withhold sex from him. Given her increased level of hormones and horniness brought about by pregnancy, he was sure that she'd be demanding sex from him tonight. She'd most probably break down the door if he occupied another room.

Hot angry sex was great, but he'd prefer make-up sex, in terms of sentimentality.

Speaking with a door in between them was not ideal (although it shielded him from anything she might throw at him), so Chuck had to think of how Blair would open the door to face him. He would never again dare to try to open a locked door with Blair behind it, given that he was sent to the ER the last time he did. He'd have to lure her out then.

"Maybe if you open this door and talk to me face to face, I could consider negotiation." No sound could be heard in their bedroom, but sure enough, Chuck's ears caught rustling and feet padding on the floor. Not a moment too soon, the door opened, and Blair stood in her silk robe, arms crossed.

Tamping down the twitch in his lips at the beginning of his smirk (Blair would've been alerted to his deviousness), Chuck calmly began. "May I come in?"

Blair's eyes narrowed for a bit, but eventually she moved away from the door to stand in the middle of the bedroom. Crossing her arms and jutting her chin up, she was prepared to stand her ground and fight. "Let's hear your terms, Bass."

"My terms stay the same."

Blair's jaw dropped. "You said you were open to negotiations!"

"I changed my mind on compromising."

Blair let out an angry growl and stomped her foot. "You are the most infuriating person of the human race, you Basshole!" Her eyes suddenly darted to the bathroom, but Chuck was fast and anticipated her move by obstructing her path to the bathroom door.

"I am here to talk reason, Blair. And I'm not about to do it with a door in between us."

Blair just let out another angry growl and decided to settle down on their bed instead. She sat down on top of the comfy, Egyptian cotton duvet and crossed her arms.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Bass? I hope you like how your baby mama is going barefoot in protest for the rest of her pregnancy!"

"Now, now, Blair. Don't be so melodramatic."

Blair raised her eyebrow. "And hiding all my designer heels away is not at all melodramatic? You're right, it's absurdly over the top!"

Chuck cleared his throat. "Like I said, it's for your own good."

Blair's face scrunched up in anger. Her rage boiled and she could only blurt out, "Go and… die!" before stomping her foot with her hands fisted at her sides.

"Really, Blair? Go and die?" Chuck smirked in amusement. "You've had better comebacks than that.

"Shut up, you Basshole!"

Clearly, Chuck was not helping matters by making Blair more infuriated by the minute.

"Just hear me out," Chuck let out a breath and knelt in front of Blair, who had crossed her arms and turned her head to the side in a gesture of defiance.

"Blair, I indulge all of your cravings and mood swings and demands and pregnancy whims—"

"Of course you should!" Blair cut him off as she snapped her head to him with her eyes narrowed. "I'm pregnant with your spawn! You are obligated to do so!"

"I'm asking you, just this once, to indulge me."

Chuck looked straight into Blair's eyes, letting her see the vulnerability, the pleading, in his own. "Please?"

Chuck Bass rarely begged, and when he did, it meant he cared. It meant putting himself in a vulnerable position.

It might be the hormones, because damn it, Blair felt herself soften. With Chuck looking up at her like that, his eyes wide and beseeching, with a tinge of concern in his brown orbs… Blair felt herself caving in at Chuck's own version of puppy dog eyes that would beat even Monkey's. Her shoulders slumped as she let out a deep sigh. Taking this as a good sign, Chuck dared to take her hands in his own.

"Your feet are swollen, and I know just how hard it is for you these days to be in heels, even if you'll never admit it. But you'll never give them up. I just want to make sure that you and our baby are safe. It's my job to make sure that everything is as smooth as possible for you while you're carrying our child."

Blair felt herself melting, and she definitely blamed it on her hormones along with the Chuck Bass charm.

It's true that these days, she found it hard to function in her heels. Two days ago, she had almost stumbled in the hotel lobby when she and Chuck were returning from dinner, but thankfully, she caught herself just in time before she took a hard fall that could've endangered the baby. If people had seen Chuck's panicked look then, they might've thought that her water had broke. Chuck picked her up in his arms and carried her all the way up to their penthouse, and made her stay in bed the next day.

Looking back now, that must have been what triggered Chuck's scheme of whisking away her heels in an undisclosed location.

Blair decided that maybe this wouldn't be so bad. She would let Chuck have his way for now, since she got hers most of the time. After all, he was not doing this out of spite but out of love and concern, despite the eccentricity of his solution.

"Fine. I can live without heels for the next few months."

Chuck smiled and sighed in relief, happy with the knowledge that he had triumphed in this recent (but far from being the last) battle of wills.

Blair stood up and stepped into Chuck's embrace, taking in the comfortable warmth of his body and the heady scent of his cologne. After a few minutes, Chuck pulled away from her, holding her at arm's length as he regarded her with a haughty smirk that was sort of grating on Blair's consideration.

"I almost forgot," Chuck stepped behind her, put his hands on her shoulders and stirred her towards her shoe closet. "You haven't even gotten a good look at your new shoe collection."

Chuck lightly pushed her forward, stepped to the side, and opened her closet door.

Blair's hand rose to her chest as she gasped. The first time she got a look, only one thing registered in her mind: these weren't her shoes and where the hell were her heels? But now that she got a good look, she could finally appreciate her brand new shoe collection.

Each pair of heels she owned had been replaced by flats, but what she hadn't recognized earlier was that the design of each pair of heels she previously owned had apparently been adapted as flats. She didn't know how Chuck did it, but being a multibillionaire made a lot of things possible for him.

Blair was dumbfounded for a while as she admired all her new shoes.

"Well," Blair still maintained a haughty look, not allowing Chuck the satisfaction of seeing that she had forgiven him for kidnapping and holding hostage her shoe collection. "These flats will do."

Chuck smirked, knowing that she had mellowed. "You must admit, I have quite the tasteful choice."

"Anymore tasteful and you'd be gay," Blair countered, which only amused Chuck.

"Now," Chuck's gaze softened. "Would you like a foot massage or a back rub?"

Blair couldn't hold out her pout as she felt her lips turning up in a smile. As much as she craved macaroons and other food for her pregnancy, Chuck's massages were also something she couldn't get enough of (just below sex, her top pregnancy demand).

"Fine," Blair snapped, sounding like she was exasperated in patronizing him. But Chuck could tell she was feeling pretty perky at the thought of a massage. "I'll let you satisfy the weird foot fetish you've acquired in my pregnancy. And afterwards, you can rub my back."

Chuck could only chuckle as Blair moaned happily when his fingers started applying pressure at the pad of her right foot. They both knew sex would be next before the back rub.

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_**A/n:**_ For a seemingly dark 3w8L… I believe I managed to pull off a pretty fluffy piece. ~_~ Sorry for the late update. This O/S collection has a few chapters left. I hope I can put up all the remaining chappies before I start my masters next school year. ^_^

As glad as I am for the Chairytale ending, I miss Chuck and Blair. TT,TT


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